
Qass_Li_ 
Book . 



POEMS 



THOMAS LODGE. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 



WITH OTHER 



LYRICAL AND PASTORAL 



llftttlt*. 



V 

BY THOMAS LODGE. 




FROM THE PRESS OF C. WHITTINGHA 



COLLEGE HOUSE. 
MDCCCXFX. 




877 



PREFACE. 



Thomas Lodge is said by Wood to have been of a 
Lincolnshire family, and was probably born about the 
year 1556. In 1573 he made his entry into the University 
of Oxford, and became a Servitor or Scholar of Trinity 
College, "under the learned and virtuous Sir Edward 
Hobbye." Here his talent for verse soon discovered 
itself, and he was known and distinguished as an excel- 
lent scholar, and successful votary of the Muse. It 
should seem that he soon after quitted his peaceful 
studies for a more adventurous life, and made a voyage 
with Captain Clarke to the Canaries *, and probably 
another with Cavendish t. During the leisure afforded 

* — "being myselfe first a student, and afterwards fallingfrom bookes 
to amies. — Having with Captaine Clarke made a voyage to the Hands 
of Terceras and the Canaries, to beguile the time with labour, I writ 
this booke : rough as hatcht in the stormes of the ocean, and feathered 
in the surges of many periilous seas." — Dedication to the Lord of 
Huns don, " Euphues." Edit. 1592. 

t " Touching the place where I wrote this, it was in those straits 
christened by Magelan ; in which place to the southward many won- 
derous lies, many strange fishes, many monstrous Patagones withdrew 
my senses; briefly, many bitter and extreme frosts at midsummer 
continually clothe and clad the discomfortable mountaines." — Dedica- 
tion to the Lady Russell, Margarita of America, 1596. 

In the address " to the Gentlemen Readers" prefixed to the same 
work, he says: " Som foure yeres since being at sea with M: Candish 
(whose memorie if I repent not, I lament not) it was my chance in the 
librarie of the lesuits in Sanctum to find this historie in the Spanish 
tong." 



VI PREFACE. 

him at sea, he exercised his invention in the production 
of one or two of the novels which he gave to the world 
on his return. He is said by Wood to have studied 
medicine at Avignon, and to have taken his degree of 
Doctor in that faculty there : thus abandoning the un- 
productive life of a poet, and wisely embracing the more 
profitable one of a Physician, but possibly rather from 
necessity than choice *. The dedication to one of his 
pieces, in 1596, is dated " from my house at Low Laiton 
in Essex : but he appears to have been ultimately settled 
in London, and to have practised very extensively in his 
profession. It is presumed that he was a catholic, as he 
was much patronised by persons of that religion. He 
dwelt in 1603, in Warwick Lane, and complains, in the 
preface to his " Treatise of the Plague," of the annoy- 
ance he met with from an advertising quack, who had 
become his neighbour, and put forth bills promising 
miracles. " At the first he underwrit not his billes, 
every one that red them came flocking to me, conjuring 
me by great profers and perswasions to store them with 
my promised preservatives. These importunities of 
theirs made me both agree ved, and amazed ; agreeved 
because of that loathsome imposition which was laid 
upon me, to make myselfe vendible, (which is vnworthy 
a liberall and gentle minde, much more ill beseeming a 
phisitian and philosopher, who ought not to prostitute 
so sacred a profession so abjectly, but be a contemner of 
base and servile desire of mony," &c. He afterwards 
resided on Lambert Hill, and not long before his death 

* In the title to " Glaucus and Scilla, 1589," and to " Catharos 
Diogenes, in his singnlaritie," 1591, he stiles himself " T. L. of Lincoln's 
Inne, Gent." so that he may have previously intended applying himself 
to the law as a profession. He is also thus designated in the title to 
« A Kg for Mom us."— 1595, 



he removed to the vicinity of Old Fish Street, where, 
says Wood : " he made his last exit (of the plague I 
think) in September, 1625, leaving then behind him a 
widow called Joan." The place of his interment is not 
known, hut it was probably in the church or church-yard 
of St. Mary Magdalen, close by. 

The present is an attempt to collect together the 
verses of this unjustly neglected poet. A second part 
will contain the " Fig for Momus," (which has already 
been made known to a few select literati, by the very 
elegant fac-simile printed at the private press of Alex- 
ander Boswell, Esq. M. P. of Auchinlech,) to this will 
be added such other fugitive verses as have hitherto 
eluded my researches ; his " Phillis," and those poems in 
the "England's Helicon," and "Phoenix Nest," which 
are not already in the present collection. 

Sir Egerton Brydges, in his preface to ** England's 
Helicon," has paid a just and eloquent tribute to his 
genius, and says with great truth, that " In Lodge we 
find whole pastorals and odes which have all the ease, 
polish, and refinement of a modern author." It is in- 
deed true that " Ignorance did never more impudently 
expose itself than when it awarded to Waller the 
praise of having first refined our verse, and to Pope 
that of having perfected it!" for the present volume 
will manifestly shew that this refinement was happily 
anticipated by Lodge, not to name some of his more 
powerful cotemporaries. He has also a claim to be 
considered the u first English satirist," preceding the 
publication of Hall's Satires by two years, and writing 
with a spirit, ease, and harmony, never surpassed, 
if equalled by him ; yet observe the capricious nature of 
posthumous fame, the " Fig for Momus" is almost un- 



V1I1 PREFACE. 

known to modern readers, while Hall enjoys high and 
not unmerited reputation, but which might justly be 
shared by Lodge. If the limits of this brief preface 
would allow it, beautiful specimens might be adduced of 
natural sentiment, simplicity, purity and sweetness of 
expression in the following compositions ; but the reader 
will be better pleased to make his own selection, and I 
have yet some exquisite morsels in store for him. Away 
then with the flimsy, petulant, and sweeping censure of 
Mr. George Steevens, who, in mentioning Shakspeare's 
use of the " Euphues," in framing the fable of his ex- 
quisite comedy of (i As You Like it," remarks, that " he 
has followed Lodge's novel more exactly than is his 
custom when he is indebted to such worthless originals." 
This must have been written in one of those purblind 
or splenetic moods which occasionally overtook the 
critic, and which made him pronounce the immortal 
Shakspeare a worse sonnetteer than Watson, and say 
that no act of parliament, however strongly framed, 
would compel any one to read his poems. Let the reader 
turn to " Rosalind's Madrigal," at p. 77, taken from this 
contemned performance, and decide. 

It must be acknowledged that Lodge is not always 
free from the defects which mark the poetry of his age, 
and occasional quaintness and conceit disfigure his com- 
positions, yet upon the whole he is more free from them, 
than many of his more celebrated cotemporaries; and we 
can only account for the neglect into which he has fallen, 
by supposing that his scattered pamphlets have been so 
rare as to elude the search of those who from time to 
time have done justice to our earlier poets. This rarity 
has operated in the present instance, for in the following 
list of his pieces, which contains all I have found any 



notice of, there are two or three which I have as yet 
not been fortunate enough to get access to. 

Alarum against Usurers, — with the Delectable History 
of Forbonius and Prisceria, — 1584. 

Scillaes Metamorphosis, with sundrie other most 
absolute Poems and Sonnets. — 1589. 

Catharos. Diogenes in his Singularitie, &c. christened 
by him a Nettle for Nice Noses. — 1591. 

The Life and Death of William Longbeard, &c. ac- 
companied with many other prettie Histories. — 1593. 

Rosalynde. Euphues' Golden Legacy. — 1590, 1592, 
1620. 

Phillis: honoured with Pastoral Sonnets, Elegies, and 
amorous delights. Whereunto is annexed the Tragical 
Complaint of Eistred (consisting of 40 Sonnets) 4to. — 
1593. 

A Fig for Momus : containing Pleasant Varietie, 
included in Satyres, Eclogues, and Epistles. —1595. 

A Margarite of America. — 1596. 

The Divel Conjured, — 1596. 

Wits Miserie, and the World's Madnesse. Discovering 
the Devil's incarnate of this Age. — 1596. 

The Wounds of Civil War : lively set forth in the true 
Tragedies of Marius and Silla. — 1594. 

A Treatise of the Plague. — 1603. 

The Poore Man's Legacie, a Treatise on Domestic 
Medicine; addressed to the Countess of Arundel. MS. 

The Works of L. A. Seneca, folio.— 1614, 1620. 

The History of Josephus, folio — 1602, 1609, 1620. 

A Looking Glass for London and England j a Tragi- 
comedy, written in conjunction with Robert Greene, 
4ta.— London: 1598. 



A Treatise in Defence of Plays, in Answer to Stephen 
Gosson, 16mo. Date unknown. 

He prefixed a commendatory address to the Countess 
of Lincolne's Nurserie, 4to. — Oxford: 1622. 

" Promos and Cassandra," a play, has been erroneously 
attributed to him by Mr. Ellis. It is well known to 
have been the production of George Whetstone. 

In " England's Helicon," and the " Phoenix' Nest," 
are several beautiful poems by Lodge, not in the present 
collection. It has been already observed that these will 
be incorporated in an intended second part of his poems, 
toward the formation of which I have powerful promises 
of assistance, and make no doubt that I shall ultimately 
have the pleasure of presenting a complete body of 
Lodge's poetry. 

S. W. S. 

BUSHEY, HERTS, 

Jan. 30, 1819. 



SCILLAES 
Metamorphosis : 

interlaced 

with the unfortunate loue 
of Glaums. 

Whereunto is annexed the delectable discourse 

of the discontented Satyre: with sundrie other 

most absolute Poems and Sonnets. 

Contayning the detestable tyrannie of Dis- 

daine, and Comicall triumph of Constan- 

cie : Verie fit for young Courtiers to 

peruse, and coy Dames to 

remember. 

By Thomas Lodge of Lincolnes 
Inne, Gentleman. 

vita ! misero longa, fxlici brevis. 

# 

Imprinted at London by Richard Jhones, 

and are to be sold at his shop neere Holburne 

bridge, at the signe of the Rose and 

Crowne. 1589. 



To His Especiall 

good friend Master Rafe Crane 

and the rest of his most entire well wil- 
lers, the Gentlemen of the limes 
of Court and Chauncerie Tho- 
mas Lodge of Lincolnts Inne 
Gent wisheth increase of 
worship and continu- 
ance in venue. 

Sweete Master Crane I had not thought at this 
instant to haue partaked my passions with the 
print, whose discontented thoughts so long inured 
to obscuritie, were diuorsed many yeares since, 
from vaine glories inordinate follie : but the base 
necessitie of an extrauagant melancholie mate, 
ihat had no other wide of quod ad victual attinet 
but the forestalling of other mens iiiuentions, 



XIV THE EPISTLE DEDICATORIE. 

made my unperfit Poems (in spite of waste paper) 
to hazard an apprenteship in Poules: so that 
that which in the first peeping foorth was wholie 
predestinate to your friendship by an vnderhand 
marte, is made the mercinarie recreation of euerie 
ridiculous mate. Our wits now a daies are waxt 
uerie fruitefull, and our Pamphleters more than 
prodigall : so that the postes which strode naked 
a tedious non terminus, doo vaunt their double 
apparrell as soone as euer the Exchequer openeth; 
and euerie corner is tooke vp with some or other 
penelesse companion that will imitate any estate 
for a two-pennie almes. I could afford you 
whole seruices of absurdities, that would disquiet 
the disgestion of Arte vsque ad pascam, were it 
not that I pittie to particularize simple fellowes 
imperfections, and am altogether loath to aduen- 
ture my paines in so vngratefull a Province. 
For transformed Scilla howeuer she hapned now 



THE EPISTLE DEDICATORIE. XV 

to bee disioyned from disdainfull Charybdis: 
thinke not but if they haue good shipping they 
wil meete ere long both in one shop : and landed 
they had at this instant, in one and the selfe same 
bay, if Scilla (the vnfortunater of the two) had 
not met with a mudie pirate by the way. Ariued 
shee is, though in a contrary coast, but so wrackt, 
and weatherbeaten, through the vnskilfulnes of 
rough writers, that made their poast haste passage 
by night, as Glaucus would scarce know her, if 
he met her : yet my hope is Gentlemen, that you 
wil not so much imagine what she is, as what 
shee was : insomuch as from the shop of the 
Painter, shee is falne into the hands of the stainer. 
Thus referring the supportance of my credit, and 
the inability of my verse to your ingenious 
opinions, I bid you farewel til the next Tearm ; 
at which time I hope to entertaine your seuerall 
delights, with farre better discourses, and bee 



XVI THE EPISTLE DEDICATORIE. 

suppliant to my good friend Master Crane, in 
some or other more acceptable Poem. In the 
meane time let my appliable voluisse, intitle me 
to your curtesie : whose I am during life in all 
enterchangeable dutie. 

Your friend assured 

THOMAS LODGE. 



THE MOST PiTlilE AND PLEASANT 



HISTORIE OF GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 



Walking alone (all onely full of griefe) 
Within a thicket neere to Isis floud, 
Weeping my wants, and wailing scant releife, 
Wringing mine armes (as one with sorrowe wood); 
The piteous streames relenting at my mone 
Withdrew their tides, and staid to hear me grone. 

From foorth the channell, with a sorrowing crie 
The sea-god Glaucus (with his hallowed heares 
Wet in the teares of his sad mother's dye) 
With piteous lookes before my face appeares ; 
For whome the nimphes a mossie coate did frame 
Embroadered with his Silla's heauenly name. 

And as I sat vnder a willow tree, 

The louelie honour of faire Thetis bower ; 

Repos'd his head vpon my faintfull knee : 

And when my teares had ceast their stormie shower 



2 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

He dried my cheekes, and then bespake bim so, 
As when he waild I straight forgot my woe. 

Infortunate, why wandreth thy content, 

From forth his scope as wearied of itselfe, 

Thy lookes have schoold thee from this fond repent, 

And thou canst talke by proofe of wauering pelfe: 

Unto the world such is inconstancie, 

As sap to tree, as apple to the eye. 

Marke how the morne in roseat colour shines, 
And straight with cloudes the sunnie tract is clad : 
Then see how pomp through waxe and waine declines, 
From high to lowe, from better to the bad ; 

Take moist from sea, take colour from his kinde, 
Before the world deuoid of change thou finde. 

With secret eye looke on the earth a while, 
Regard the changes Nature forceth there : 
Behold the heauens, whose course all sence beguile, 
Respect thyselfe, and thou shalt find it cleere, 
That infant-like thou art become a youth, 
And youth forespent a wretched age ensu'th. 

in searching then the schoolemen ? s cunning noates, 
Of heauen, of earth, of flow r ers, of springing trees^ 
Of hearbs of mettall, and of Thetis floates, 
Of lawes and nurture kept among the bees : 

Conclude, and knowe times change by course of fate, 
Then mourne no more, but moane my haples state. 



GLAUCUS AND SILL A'. 8 

Here gan he pause and shake his heauie head, 

And fould his armes, and then unfould them straight ; 

Fame would he speake, but tongue was charm'd by 
dread, 

Whilst I that sawe what woes did him awaight, 
Comparing his mishaps, and moane with mine, 
Gan smile for ioy, and drie his drooping eync. 

But (loe) a wonder ; from the channel's glide 
A sweete melodious noyse of musicke rose, 
That made the streame to dance a pleasant tide, 
The weedes and sallowes neere the bancke that groes 
Gan sing as when the calmest windes accorde, 
To greete with balmie breath the fleeting forde. 

Upon the siluer bosome of the streame 
First gan faire Themis shake her amber locks, 
Whom all the nimphs that waite on Neptune's realme 
Attended from the holiowe of the rocks. 

In briefe, while these rare parragons assemble, 
The watrie world to touch their teates doo tremble. 

Footing it featlie on the grassie ground, 

These damsels circling with their brightsome faires, 

The love-sicke god and I, about us wound 

Like starres that Ariadne's crowne repaires: 

Who once hath seene, or pride of morne, or day, 
Would deeme all pompe within their cheekes did 
play. 

b 2 



4 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

Nais, fair nimph, with Bacchus iuorie touch, 
Gan tune a passion with such sweete reports, 
And euerie word, noate, sigh, and pause was such, 
And euerie cadence fed with such consorts, 
As were the Delian harper bent to heare, 
Her statelie straines might tempt his curious eare. 

Of loue (God wot) the louelie nymph complained : 
But so of loue, as forced loue to loue her; 
An euen in loue such furious loue remained, 
As searching out his powrefull shaft to proue her, 
He found his quiuer emptied of the best, 
And felt the arrowe sticking in his breast. 

Under a popler Themis did repose her, 
And from a brier a sweetfull branch did plucke : 
When midst the brier ere she could scarce suppose her 
A nightingale gan sing: but woe the lucke; 

The branch so neere her breast, while she did 
quicke her 

To turne her head, on sodaine gan to pricke her. 

Whilst smiling Clore midst her enuious blushes 

Gan blame her feare, and pretilie said thus : 

Worse prickes than these are found among these 

bushes, 
And yet such prickes are scarcelie feard of vs. 
Nay, soft (said Chelis) prickes do make birds sing, 
But prickes in ladies bosomes often sting. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 5 

Thus iest they on the nightingales report, 
And on the prickle of the eglantine, 
On Nais song, and all the whole consort 
In publique this sweete sentence did assigne ; 

That while some smile, some sigh through change 
of time ; 

Some smart, some sport amidst their youthlie prime. 

Such wreathes as bound the Theban's iuorie brow, 
Such gay trickt garlands pleit these ioliie dames ; 
The flowres themselues when as the nimphes gan bowe 
Gan vaile their crestes in honour of their names ; 

And smilde their sweete, and woed with so much 
glee, 

As if they said, sweet nimph, come gather mee. 

But pencive Glaucus passionate with painings, 

Amidst their reuel thus began his ruth ; 

Nimphes, flie these groues late blasted with my plain- 
ings, 

For cruel Silla nill regard my truth : 

And leaue ts two consorted in our gronings, 
To register with teares our bitter monings. 

The flouds doo faile their course to see our crosse, 
The fields forsake their graine to heare our griefe, 
The rockes will weepe whole springs to marke our 

losse, 
The hills relent to store our scant reliefe, 



6 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

The aire repines, the penciue birds are heauie, 
The trees to see vs paind no more are leauie. 

Ay me, the shepheards let their flocks want feeding, 

And flockes to see their palie face are sorie, 

The nimphes to spie the flockes and shepheards 

needing 
Prepare their teares to heare our tragicke storie : 
Whilst we surprisde with griefe cannot disclose 

them, 
With sighing wish the world for to suppose them, 

He that hath seene the sweete Arcadian boy 
Wiping the purple from his forced wound, 
His pretie teares betokening his annoy, 
His sighes, his cries, his falling on the ground, 
The ecchoes ringing from the rockes his fall, 
The trees with teares reporting of his thrall. 

And Venus starting at her loue-mate's crie 
Forcing her birds to hast her chariot on ; 
And full of griefe at last with piteous eie 
Scene where all pale with death he lay alone, 
Whose beautie quaild as wont the lillies droop 
When wastfull winter windes doo make them stoop : 

Her daintie hand addrest to clawe her deere, 
Her roseall lip alied to his pale cheeke, 
Her sighes, and then her lookes and heauie cheere, 
Her bitter threates, and then her passions meeke, 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 7 

How on his senseles corpes she lay a crying, 
As if the boy were then but new a dying. 

He that hath vewd Angelica the faire 
Bestraught with fancie nere the Caspian springs : 
Renting the tresses of her golden haire, 
How on her harpe with pitious notes she sings 
Of Roland's ruth, of Medor's false depart, 
Sighing each rest from center of her heart. 

How now she writes upon a beechen bow 
Her Medor's name, and bedlam like againe 
Calls all the heauen to witnes of his vow, 
And straight againe begins a mournefull straine, 
And how in thought of her true faith forsooken 
He fled her bowres, and how his league was broken. 

Aye me, who markes her harpe hang vp againe 
Upon the wiliowes watered with her teares, 
And how she rues to read her Roland's paine, 
When but the shadowe of his name appeares; 
Would make more plainings from his eyes to flee 
Than teares distill from amber weeping tree. 

He that hath knowne the passionate mishappes 
That nere Olimpus faire Lucina felt 
When as her Latium love her fancie trappes, 
How with suspect her inward soule dooth melt: 
Or markt the morne, her Cephalus complaining, 
May then recount the course of all our paining. 



8 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

But, tender nimphes, to you belongs no teene; 
Then fauor me in flying from this bower 
Whereas but care and thought of crosses been, 
Leaue me that loose my selfe through fancies power, 
Through fancies power which had I leaue to loose it, 
No fancie then should fee me for to choose it. 

When you are fled the heauen shall lowre for sorrowe, 
The day orecast shall be bedtime* with sable 
The aire from sea such streaming showres shall borrow 
As earth to beare the brunt shall not be able, 
And shippes shall safely saile, whereas beforne 
The ploughman watcht the reaping of his come. 

Goe you in peace to Neptune's watrie sound, 
No more may Glaucus play him with so prettie, 
But shun resort where solace nill be found, 
And plaine my Scillaes pride; and want of pittie, 
Alas, sweet nimphs my godhead's all in vaine, 
For why this brest includes immortall paine. 

Scilla hath eyes, but too sweete eyes hath Scilla; 

Scilla hath hands, faire hands but coy in touching ; 

Scilla in wit surpasseth graue Sibilla, 

Scilla hath words, but words well storde with 
grutching; 
Scilla a saint in looke, no saint in scorning 
Looke saint-like Scilla, least I die with mourning, 

* Bedim ? 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 9 

Alas, why talke I ? — sea-god cease to mourne her, 
For in her nay my ioyes are ever ceasing : 
Cease life or loue, then shall I neuer blame her ; 
But neither loue nor life may finde decreasing. 
A mortall wound is my immortall being 
Which passeth thought, or eyes aduised seeing. 

Herewith his faltring tongue by sighs oppressed 
Forsooke his office, and his bloud resorted 
To feede the heart that wholly was distressed, 
Whilst pale (like Pallas' flowre) my knee supported 
His feeble head and arme, so full of anguish, 
That they which sawe his sorrowes gan to lan- 
guish. 

Themis, the coyest of this beauteous traine 
On hillie toppes the wonderous Moly found, 
Which dipt in balmie deaw she gan to straine, 
And brought her present to recure his wound : 
Clore she gathered Amaranthus flower, 
And Nais Aiax blossom in that stowre. 

Some chafe his temples with their louelie hands, 
Some sprinkle water on his pale wan cheekes, 
Some weepe, some wake, some curse affections bandcs, 
To see so young, so faire, become so weake; 

Eut not their pitioushearbs, or springs haue working 
To ease that heart where wanton loue is lurking. 



b3 



10 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

Naithles though loath to shewe his holy kindness 
On euerie one he spent a looke for fauour, 
And prayed their pardon, vouching Cupid's blindnes, 
(Oli fancies fond that naught but sorrowes sauour); 
To see a louely god leaue sea nimphs so: 
Who cannot doome upon his deadly woe ? 

Themis that knewe, that waters long restrained 
Breake forth with greater billowes than the brookes 
That swetely float through meades with flowres dis- 

tained, 
With cheerefull laies did raise his heauie lookes ; 
And bad him speake and tell what him agreeu'd : 
For griefes disclos'd (said she) are soone releeu'd. 

And as she wisht so all the rest did woe him ; 
By whose incessant suites at last inuited, 
He thus discouered that which did undoo him, 
And orderlie his hideous harmes recited, 

When first, with fingers wagge he gan to still them, 
And thus with drierie tearmes of lone did fill them. 

Ah, nimphes (quoth he), had I by reason learnt 
That secret art which birdes haue gaind by sence, 
By due foresight misfortune to preuent; 
Or could my wit controule mine eyes offence: 

You then should smile, and I should tell such stories, 
As woods, and waues should triumph in our glories. 



GLAUCUS AND STLLA. 11 

But Nereus' daughters, sea-borne saints attend, 
Lake breeding geese when from the Easterne clime 
They list unto the westerne waters wend 
To choose their place of rest by course of time, 
Approaching Taurus' haughtie topped hill 
They charme their cackle by this wondrous skill. 

The climing mountaine, neighbouring ayre welnie, 

Hath harbored in his rockes and desart haunts 

Whole aides of eagles prest to flie, 

That gazing on the sonne their birth right vaunts, 
Which birds of Ioue with deadlie fewde pursue 
The wandering geese, when so they presse in vewe. 

These fearefull flitting troopes, by nature taught, 
Passing these dangerous places of pursuit: 
When all the desart vales they through haue sought, 
With pibbles stop their beakes to make them mute, 
And by this meanes their dangerous deathes preuent, 
And gain their washed waters of frequent. 

But I fond God (I God complaine thy follie) 
Let birds by sense exceede my reason farre : 
Whilom than I who was more strong and iollie, 
Who more contemnd affections wanton warre? 

Who lesse than I lou'd lustfull Cupid's arrowes? 

Who now with curse and plague poore Glaucus 
h arrowes. 



12 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

How haue I leapt to heare the Tritons play 
A harsh retreat unto the swelling flouds? 
How have I kept the dolphins at a bay, 
When as I ment to charme their wanton moods? 

How haue the angrie windes growne calme for 
loue, 

When as these fingers did my harpe-strings moue ? 

Was any nimph, you nimphes was euer any 
That tangled not her fingers in my tresse? 
Some well I wot, and of that some full many 
Wisht or my faire, or their desire were lesse; 
Euen Ariadne gazing from the skie 
Became enamorde of poore Glaucus' eye. 

Amidst this pride of youth and beauties treasure 
It was my chaunce, you floods can tell my chancing, 
Fleeting along Sicillian bounds for pleasure, 
To spie a nimph of such a radiant glancing, 
As when I lookt, a beame of subtill firing 
From eye to heart incenst a deepe desiring. 

Ah, had the vaile of reason clad mine eye, 
This foe of freedome had not burnt my heart: 
But birds are blest, and most accurst am I 
Wlio must reporte her glories to my smart, 
The nimph I sawe, and lou'de her, all to cruell 
Scilla, faire Scilla, my fond fancies iuell. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 13 

Her haire not trust, but scatterd on her brow, 

Surpassing Hibla's honnie for the view, 

Or softned golden wires ; I know not how 

Loue with a radiant beautie did pursue 
My too iudiciall eyes, in darting fire 
That kindled straight in me my fond desire. 

Within these snares first was my heart intrapped, 
Till through those golden shrowdes mine eies did 

see 
An yuorie shadowed front, wherein was wrapped 
Those pretie bowres where graces couched be : 
Next which her cheekes appeerd like crimson silk, 
Or ruddie rose bespred on whitest milk. 

Twixt which the nose in louely tenor bends, 
(Too traitrous pretie for a louer's view) : 
Next which her lips like violets commends 
By true proportion that which dooth insue; 
Which when they smile, present vnto the eies 
The Ocean's pride and yuorie paradice. 

Her polisht necke of milke white snowes doth shine, 
As when the Moone in Winter night beholdes them : 
Her breast of alablaster cleere and fine, 
Whereon two rising apples faire vnfolds them 
Like Cinthia's face when in her full she shineth, 
And blushing to her loue-mate's bower declineth. 



14 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 



From whence in length her armes doo sweetly spred 
Like two rare branchie saples in the Spring, 
Yeelding fine louely sprigs from euerie head, 
Proportioned alike in euerie thing ; 

Which featly sprout in length like spring-borne 
fiends, 

Whose pre tie tops with flue sweet roses ends. 

But why alas should I that marble hide 
That doth adorne the one and other flanke, 
From whence a mount of quickned snow doth glide; 
Or els the vale that bounds this milk-white baiike, 
Where Venus and her sisters hide the fount, 
Whose louely nectar dooth all sweetes surmount. 

Confounded with descriptions, I must leaue them ; 

Louers must thinke, and poets must report them; 

For silly wits may neuer well conceaue them, 

Unlesse a speciall grace from heauen consort them. 
Aies me, these faires attending Scilla won me : 
But now (sweete nimphes) attend what hath vndon 
me. 



The louely breast, where all this beautie rested, 
Shrowded within a world of deepe disdaine, 
For where I thought my fancie should be feasted 
With kind affect, alas (vnto my paine), 

When first I woode the wanton straight was 

flying, 
And gave repulse before we talkt of trying. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 15 

How oft haue I (too often have I done so) 
In silent night, when eucrie eye was sleeping", 
Drawne ncere her cane, in hope her lone were won so, 
Forcing the neighboring waters through my weeping 
To wake the windes, who did afflict her dwelling, 
Whilst I with teares my passion was a telling. 

When midst the Caspian seas the wanton plaid, 
I drew whole wreaths of corrall from the rockes ; 
And in her lap my heauenly presents laid: 
But she vnkind rewarded me with mockes, 

Such are the fruites that spring from ladies coying, 
Who smile at teares, and are intrapt with toying. 

Tongue might grow wcarie to report my wooings, 
And heart might burst to thinke of her deniall: 
May none be blamde but heauen for all these dooings, 
That yeeld no helpes in midst of all my triall. 

Heart, tongue, thought, pen nil serue me to repent 
me, 

Disdaine herselfe should striue for to lament me. 

Wretched loue, let me die, end my loue by my death ; 
Dead alas still I Hue, flie my life, fade my loue. 
Out alas loue abides, still I ioy vitall breath : 
Death in loue, loue is death, woe is me that doo proue. 
Paine and woe, care and griefe euery day about 

me houers, 
Then but death what can quel al the plages of 
haples louers? 



16 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

Aies me my moanings are like water drops 
That need an age to pearce her marble heart, 
I sow'd true zeale, yet fruiteles were my crops : 
I plighted faith, yet falsehoode wrought my smart : 
I prais'd her lookes, her lookes dispised Glaucus, 
Was euer amorous sea-god scorned thus ? 

A hundereth swelling tides my mother spent 
Upon these lockes, and all her nimphes were prest, 
To pleit them faire when to her bowre I went: 
He that hath seene the wandring Phebus' crest 
Toucht with the christall of Eurotas' spring, 
The pride of these my bushie locks might sing. 

But short discourse beseemes my bad successe, 

Eache office of a louer I performed : 

So feruently my passions did her presse, 

So sweete my laies, my speech so well reformed, 

That (cruell) when she sawe nought would begile 
me, 

With angrie lookes the nymph did thus exile me. 

Packe hence, thou fondling to the westerne seas, 
Within some calmy river shrowd thy head : 
For neuer shall my faire thy loue appease, 
Since fancie from this bosome late is fled: 
And if thou loue me shewe it in departing: 
For why thy presence dooth procure my smarting. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 17 

This said with angrie lookes away she hasted, 
As fast as flie the flouds before the winds : 
When I poore soule with wretched sorrowes wasted, 
Exclaimde on loue, which wit and reason blinds : 
And banisht from her bowre with wofull poasting 
I bent myselfc to seeke a forreine coasting. 

At last in wandring through the greater seas 
It was my chance to passe the noted streights : 
And wearied sore in seeking after ease, 
Amidst the creekes, and watrie coole receits, 
I spied from farre by helpe of sonnie beames 
A fruitfull ile begirt with ocean streames. 

Westward I fleeted, and with heedfull eie 
Beheld the chalkie cliffes that tempt the aire, 
Till at the last it was my chance to spie 
A pleasant entrance to the flouds repaire ; 

Through which I prest, and wandring there be- 
held 

On either side a sweete and fruitfull field. 

Isis (the ladie of that louely streame) 

Made holiday in view of my resort; 

And all the nimphes of that her watrie realme 

Gan trip for ioy, to make me mickle sport : 

But I poore soule with no such ioyes contented, 
Forsooke their bowers, and secretly lamented. 



18 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

All solitarie rome I heere about, 
Now on the shoare, now in the streaine I weepe, 
Fire burns within, and gastly feare without, 
No rest, no ease, no hope of any sleepe : 

Poore banisht God, heere haue I still remained, 
Since time my Silla hath my sutes disdained. 

And heere consort I now with haplesse men, 
Yeelding them comfort, (though my wound be cure- 

lesse), 
Songs of remorse I warble now and then, 
Wherein I curse fond Loue and Fortune durelesse, 
Wan hope my weale, my trust but bad aduenture, 
Circumference is care, my heart the center. 

Whilst thus he spake, fierce Ate charmde his tongue, 
His senses faild, his amies were folded straight, 
And now he sighes, and then his heart is stung; 
Againe he speakes gainst fancies fond deceit, 
And teares his tresses with his fingers faire, 
And rents his roabs, halfe mad with deepe despaire. 

The piteous nimphes that viewd his heauie plight, 
And heard the sequell of his bad successe, 
Did loose the springs of their remorsefull sight, 
And wept so sore to see his scant redresse : 
That of their teares there grew a pretie brooke 
Whose christall cleares the clowdes of penciue 
looke. 



GLAUCUS AND S1LLA. 19 

Alas woes me, how oft have I be wept 
So fair, so yong, so louely, and so kinde, 
And whilst .the God vpon my bosome slept, 
Behelde the scarres of his afflicted minde, 
Imprinted in his yuorie brow by care, 
That fruitlesse fancie left unto his share. 

My wandring lines bewitch not so my sences, 
But, gentle muse direct their course aright, 
Delays in tragicke tales procure offences : 
Yeeld me such feeling wordes, that whilst I wright 
My working lines may fill mine eyes with languish, 
And they to note my mones may melt with anguish, 

The wofull Glaucus thus with woes attainted, 
The penciue nimphes agreeud to see his plight, 
The flouds and fields with his laments acquainted, 
Myselfe amazd to see this heauie sight; 

On sodaine Thetis with her traine approched, 
And grauely thus her amorous sonne reproched. 

u My sonne (said she) immortall haue I made thee 

Amidst my watrie realmes who may compare 

Or match thy might? Why then should care inuade 

thee, 
That art so yong, so louely, fresh and faire. 
Alas fond God, it merits great reprouing 
In states of worth, to doate on foolish louing. 






20 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

" Come wend with me, and midst thy father's bowre 

Let us disport and frolicke for a while 

In spite of Loue : although he powte and lowre, 

Good exercise will idle lusts beguile : 

Let wanton Scilla coy her where she will, 
Liue thou my sonne by reasons leuell still.' 7 

Thus said the goddesse : and although her words 
Gaue signes of counsaile, pompe and maiestie : 
Yet, nathelesse, her piteous eye affoords 
Some pretie witnesse to the standers by, 

That in her thoughts (for all her outward show) 
She mourn'd to see her sonne amated so. 

But (welladay) her words have little force, 
The haples louer worne with working woe 
Upon the ground lay pale as any corse, 
And were not teares which from his eyes did flowe, 
And sighes that witnesse he enioyd his breath, 
They might haue thought him citizen of death. 

Which spectacle of care made Thetis bow, 
And call on Glaucus, and command her sonne 
To yeelde her right : and her aduice allow 
But (woe) the man whome fancie had vndone 

Nili marke her rules: nor words, nor weeping 
teares 

Can fasten counsaile in the louer's eares. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 21 

The queene of sea, with all her nimphes assured, 
That no persuasion might releeue his care: 
Kneeling adowne, their faltering tongues enured 
To tempt fair Venus by their vowed praier : 
The course whereof, as I could beare in minde 
With sorrowing sobbes they vttered in this kinde. 

" Borne of the sea, thou Paphian Queene of loue, 
Mistris of sweete conspiring harmonic : 
Lady of Cipris, for whose sweete behoue 
The sheepeheards praise the youth of Thessallie : 
Daughter of loue, and sister to the Sonne, 
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone. 

i( So maist thou baine thee in th' Arcadian brookes, 
And play with Vulcan's riuall when thou list, 
And calme his iealous anger by thy lookes, 
And knit thy temples with a roseat twist, 
If thou thy selfe and thine almightie sonne 
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone. 

" May earth still praise thee for her kinde increase: 
And beasts adore thee for their fruitfull wombes, 
And fowles with noates thy praises neuer cease, 
And bees admire thee for their honnie combes ; 
So thou thy selfe, and thine almightie sonne, 
Assist poore Glaucus late by loue vndone." 



22 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

No sooner from her reuerent lips were past 
Those latter lines, but mounting in the East, 
Faire Venus in her iuorie coatch did hast, 
And toward those penciue dames, her course addrest: 
- Her doues so plied their waring wings with flight 
That straight the sacred goddesse came in sight. 



Upon her head she bare that gorgeous crowne 
Wherein the poore Amyntas is a starre, 
Her louely lockes, her bosome hang adowne 
(Those netts that first insnar'd the God of warre) : 
Delicious louely shine her prettie eies, 
And one * her cheekes carnation cloudes arise. 



The stately roab she ware upon her back 
Was lillie white, wherein with cullored silke ; 
Her nimphes had blaz'd the young Adonis' wrack, 
And Lseda's rape by swan as white as milke, 
And on her lap her louely sonne was plaste, 
Whose beautie all his mother's pompe defaste. 

A wreath of roses hem'd his temples in, 
His tresse was curlde and cleere as beaten gold ; 
Haught were his lookes, and louely was his skin, 
Each part as pure as heauen's eternall mold, 

And on his eies a milke white wreath was spred, 
Which longst his backe with prettie pleits did shed. 

* On. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 23 

Two daintie wings of partie coulored plumes 
A. dome his shoulders dallying with the winde; 
His left hand weelds a torch that euer fumes: 
And in his right his bowe that fancies bind; 
And on his back his quiuer hangs well stored 
With sundrie shaftes that sundrie hearts haue gored. 

The deities arriu'd in place desired ; 

Faire Venus her to Thetis first bespake : 

" Princesse of sea (quoth she) as you required 

From Ceston which * my sonne, my course I take : 

Frollick faire goddesse, nimphs forsake your 
plaining, 

My sonne hath power and fauour yet remaining. 

With that the reuerend powres each other kissed, 
And Cupid smii ? d upon the nimphes for pleasure : 
So naught but Glaucus solace there was missed, 
Which to effect the nimphes withouten measure 
Intreate the god, who at the last drewe nie 
The place where Glaucus full of care did lie. 

And from his bowe a furious dart hee sent 
Into that wound which he had made before: 
That like Achilles' sworde became the teint 
To cure the wound that it had caru'd before : 
And sodeinly the sea-god started up : 
Reuiude, relieud, and free from Fancies cup. 
* With? 



24 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

No more of loue, no more of hate he spoke, 
No more he forst the sighes from out his breast : 
His sodaine ioye, his pleasing smiles prouoke, 
And all aloft he shakes his bushie creast, 
Greeting the gods and goddesses beside, 
And euerie nimph vpon that happie tide. 

Cupid and he together hand in hand 
Approach the place of this renowned traine : 
" Ladies (said he), releast from amorous band, 
Receiue my prisoner to your grace againe." 

Glaucus gaue thankes, when Thetis glad with 
blisse 

Embrast his neck, and his kind cheekes did kisse. 

To see the nimphes in flockes about him play, 
How Nais kempt his head, and washt his browes; 
How Thetis checkt him with his well-a-day, 
How Clore told him of his amorous vowes, 
How Venus praisd him for his faithfull loue, 
Within my heart a sodein ioy did moue. 

Whilst in this glee this holy troope delight, 
Along the streame a farre faire Scilla floated, 
And coilie vaunst hir creast in open sight : 
Whose beauties all the tides with wonder noated, 
Fore whom Palemon and the Tritons danced 
Whilst shee hir limmes vpon the tide aduanced. 



GLAUCUS AND SJLLLA. 2o 

Whose swift approach made all the godheads wonder: 
Glaucus gan smile to see his louelie foe, 
Rage almost rent poore Thetis' heart asonder: 
Was newer happie troope confused so 
As were these deities and daintie dames 
When they beheld the cause of Glaucus' blames. 

Venus commends the carriage of her eye, 
Nais upbraides the dimple in her chinne, 
Cupid desires to touch the wanton's thie, 
Clore she sweares that euerie eie dooth sinne 
That likes a nimph that so contemneth loue, 
As no attempts her lawles heart may moue. 

Thetis impatient of her wrong sustained, 
With enuious teares her roseat cheekes afflicted; 
And thus of Scilla's former pride complained: 
" Cupid (said she) see her that hath inflicted 

The deadlie wound that harmde my louelie sonne, 
From whome the offspring of my care begonne. 

t 
" Oh, if there dwell within thy brest my boy, 

Or grace, or pittie, or remorse (said she) 

Now bend thy bowe, abate yon wanton's io}^ 

<Vnd let these nimphes thy rightfull iustice see." 

The god soone won, gan shoote, and cleft her heart 

With such a shaft as cansd her endles smart. 

c 



20 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

The tender nimph attainted vnawares 

Fares like the Libian lionesse that flies 

The hunter's launce that wounds her in his snares ; 

Now gins shee loue, and straight on Glaucus cries; 
Whilst on the shore the goddesses reioyce, 
And all the nimphes afflict the ayre with noyse. 

To shoare she flitts, and swift as Affrick wind 
Her footing glides vpon the yeelding grasse, 
And wounded by affect, recure to finde, 
She sodainely with sighes approcht the place 
Where Glaucus sat, and wearie with her harmes 
Gan clasp the sea-god in her amorous armes. 

" Glaucus, my loue (quoth she) looke on thy louer, 
Smile gentle Glaucus on the nimph that likes thee;" 
But starke as stone sat he, and list not proue her : 
(Ah, silly nimph, the selfesame god that strikes thee 
With fancies darte, and hath thy freedome slaine) 
Wounds Glaucus with the arrowe of disdaine. 



" Oh, kisse no more kind nimph he likes no kindnes, 
Loue sleepes in him, to flame within thy brest, 
Cleer'd are his eies, where thine are clad with blindnes ; 
Free'd be his thoughts, where thine must taste vnrest : 
Yet nill she leaue, for neuer loue will leaue her, 
But fruiteles hopes and fatal! happes deceaue her. 



. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 27 

Lord, how her lippes do dwell vpon his eheekes; 

And how she lookes for babies in his eies : 

And how she sighes, and sweares shee loues and 
leekes, 

And how she vowes, and he her vowes enuies ; 
Trust me, the enuious nimphs in looking on, 
Were forst with tears for to assist her mone. 

How oft with blushes would she plead for grace, 
How oft with whisperings would she tempt his eares, 
How oft with christall did she wet his face : 
How oft she wipte them with her amber heares: 
So oft methought, I oft in heart desired 
To see the end whereto disdaine aspired. 

Palemon with the Tritons roare for griefe, 

To see the Mistris of their ioyes amated ; 

But Glaucus scornes the nimph that waites reliefe : 

And more she loues the more the sea-god hated 

Such change, such chance, such sutes, such storms, 
beleeue me, 

Poore silly wretch, did hartely agreeue me. 

As when the fatall bird of Augurie 
Seeing a stormie dismal cloude arise 
Within the south, foretells with piteous crie 
The weeping tempest, that on sudden hies; 
So she poore soule, in view of his disdaine 
Began to descant on her future paiue. 
c2 



28 GLAUCUS AND STLLA. 

And fixing eye vpon the fatall ground 

Whole hoasts of flouds drew deaw from out her eyes; 

And when through inward griefe the lasse did sound 

The softned grasse like billowes did arise 

To woe her brests, and wed her limmes so daintie, 
"Whom wretched loue had made so weake and 
faintie. 

(Ayes me), methinks I see her Thetis fingers 

Renting her locks as she were .woe begon her; 

And now her lippes vpon his lipping lingers; 

Oh lingring paine where loue nill list to mone her? 
Rue me that writes, for why her ruth deserues it 
Hope needs must faile, where sorrow scarce pre- 
serues it. 

To make long tale were tedious to the wofull, 
Wofull that read what wofull shee approoued ; 
In briefe her heart with deepe dispaire was so full, 
As since she might not win her sweete beloued. 

With hideous cries like winde borne backe she 
fled 

Unto the sea, and toward Sicillia sped. 

Sweete Zephirus vpon that fatall howre 
In haples tide midst watrie worlde was walking; 
Whose milder sighes, alas, had little power 
To whisper peace amongst the godheads talking : 
Who all in one conclude for to pursue, 
The hapless nimph, to see what would ensue. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 29 

Venus herselfe and her fair Sonne gan hie 
Within their iuorie coach, drawne forth by doues, 
After this haples nimph, their power to trie : 
The nimphes in hope to see their vowed loues, 
Gan cut the watrie boasom of the tide, 
As in Cayster Phoebus birds doe glide. 

Thetis in pompe vpon a Triton's back 
Did poast her straight attended by her traine ; 
But Glaucus free from loue by louers wrack, 
Seeing me penciue, where I did remaine, 
Upon a dolphin horst me (as he was) 
Thus on the ocean hand in hand we passe. 

Our talk midway was naught but still of wonder, 
Of change, of chaunce, of sorrow, and her ending ; 
I wept for want: he said, time brings men under, 
And secret want can finde but small befrending. 
And as he said, in that before I tried it 
I blamde my wit forewarnd, yet neuer spied it. 

What neede I talke the order of my way, 
Discourse was steersman while my bark did saile, 
My ship conceit, and fancie was my bay : 
If these faile me, then faint my Muse and faile, 

Hast brought us where the haples nimph so- 
iourned, 

Beating the weeping waues that for her mourned. 



30 GLAUCTJS AND SILLA. 

He that hath seene the northren blastes dispoile 
The pompe of Prime, and with a whistling breath 
Blast and dispearse the beauties of the soile ; 
May thinke upon her paines more worse than death. 
Alas, poor lasse, the Ecchoes in the rockes 
Of Sicilie, her piteous plaining mockes. 

Eccho her selfe when Scilla cried out, O loue ! 

With piteous voice from out her hollow den 

Returnd these words, these words of sorrow, (no, 
loue). 

No loue (quoth she) then fie on traiterous men, 
Then fie on hope : then fie on hope (quoth Eccho), 
To euerie word the nimph did answere so. 

For euery sigh, the rockes returnes a sigh; 
For euerie teare their fountaines yeelds a drop ; 
Till we at last the place approached nigh, 
And heard the nimph that fed on sorrowes sop 

Make woods, and wanes, and rockes, and hills 
admire 

The wonderons force of her vntam'd desire. 

Glaucus (quoth she) is faire : whilst Eccho sings 
Glaucus is faire : but yet he hateth Scilla 
The wretch reportes : and then her armes she wrings 
Whilst Eccho tells her this, he hateth Scilla. 

No hope (quoth she) : no hope (quoth Eccho) then, 
Then fie on men ; when she said, fie on men. 



GLAUCUS ANB SILLA. 31 

Furie and Rage, Wan-hope, Dispaire and Woe, 
From Ditis den by Ate sent, drewe nie : 
Furie was red, with rage his eyes did gloe, 
Whole flakes of fire from foorth his mouth did flie, 
His hands and armes ibath'd in blood of those 
Whome fortune, sinne, or fate made countries 
foes. 

Rage, wan and pale vpon a tiger sat, 
Knawing vpon the bones of mangled men ; 
Naught can he view, but he repinMe thereat: 
His lockes were snakes bred forth in Stigian den, 
Next whom, Dispaire that deepe disdained elf 
Delightlesse liude, still stabbing of her self. 

Woe all in blacke, within her hands did beare 

The fatall torches of a funeral], 

Her cheekes were wet, dispearsed was hir heare, 

Her voice was shrill (yet loathsome therewith all) : 
Wan-hope (poore soule) on broken ancker sitts, 
Wringing his armes as robbed of his witts. 

These flue at once the sorrowing nimph assaile, 
And captiue lead her bound into the rocks, 
Where howling still she striues for to preuaile, 
With auaile yet striues she: for hir locks 

Are chang'd with wonder into hideous sands, 
And hard as flint become her snow-white hands. 



32 GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 

The waters howle with fatall tunes about her, 

The aire dooth scoule when as she turnes within them, 

The winds and waues with puffes and biilowes skout 

her, 
Waues storme, aire scoules, both wind and waues 
begin them [in, 

To make the place this mournful nimph doth weepe 
A haples haunt whereas no nimph may keepe in. 

The sea-man wandring by that famous isle, 
Shuns all with feare dispairing Scillaes bowre, 
Nimphes, sea-gods, Syrens when they list to smile 
Forsake the haunt of Scilla in that stowre : 
Ah nimphes, thought I, if euerie coy one felt 
The like mishappes, their flintie hearts would melt. 

Thetis reioyst to see her foe deprest, 
Glaucus was glad, since Scilla was enthral d ; 
The nimphs gan smile to boast their Glaucus rest: 
Venus and Cupid in their throanes enstald, 
At Thetis beck to Neptune's bowre repaire, 
Whereas they feast amidst his pallace faire. 

Of pure immortal Nectar is their drinke, 
And sweete Ambrosia dainties doo repast them, 
The Tritons sing, Palemon smiles to thinke 
Upon the chance, and all the nimphs doo hast them 
To trick vp mossie garlands, where they wonne, 
For louely Venus and her conquering sonne. 



GLAUCUS AND SILLA. 33 

From foorth the fountaines of his mothers store, 
Glaucus let flie a daintie christall baine 
That washt the riimplis with labour tir'd before : 
Cupid hee trips among the louely traine, 
Alonely I apart did write this storie 
With many a sigh and heart full sad and sorie. 

Glaucus when all the goddesses tooke rest, 
Mounted vpon a dolphin full of glee : 
Conueide me friendly from this honored feast, 
And by the way, such sonnets song to me, 

That all the dolphins neighbouring of his glide 
Daunst with delight, his reuerend course beside. 

At last he left me, where at first he found me, 
Willing me let the world and ladies knowe 
Of Scilla's pride, and then by oath he bound me 
To write no more of that whence shame dooth grow: 
Or tie my pen to pennie-knaues delight 
But liue with fame, and so for fame to wright. 

LENVOY. 

Ladies he left me, trust me I missay not, 
But so he left me, as he wild me tell you: 
That nimphs must yeeld, when faithfull louers straie 

not 
Least through contempt, almightie loue compell you 
With Scilla in the rockes to make your biding 
A cursed plague, for womens proud back-sliding 
c3 



34 



GLAUCUS' COMPLAINT. 

WRITTEN BY THE SAID GENT. 

The billowes that by windes assisting breath 
Booth beate vpon the rocks at last doo peirce them: 
Ah, then (thou gentle offspring of my death) 
Why faile my plaints, when penciue I rehearse them 
To wound thine eares? when as my words exceed 

them, 
And that my sighes insteade of windes doo leade 
them. 

Along the floods I wander all forlorne, 

Nor may the sea-nimphes smiles enforce me play : 

But if I think, I think vpon thy scorne, 

And if I wish, I wish my dismall day, 

Oh fruites of loue, oh powrefull course of paiue ! 

That one should like the thing that hath him slaine. 

Looke in my mothers christall face, faire maide, 
There read the storie of my bitter state ; 
By teares her siluer Boatings haue alaid, 
Her troubled lookes foreshowe my wretched fate : 
If not for me, yet mourne her bitter weeping, 
And pittie him whose heart is in thy keeping. 



GLAUCUS COMPLAINT. 35 

Take pittie, Scilla, pittie thou thy loner, 
For thou art faire, and beautie should haue pittie, 
Ahlas ! she flies, perswasions cannot nioue her, 
She is too wanton, or too foolish wittie : 

Along the floates the scalie troopes encrease, 
Yet nill she loue to maintain natures peace. 

Oh, stepdame Nature, hast thou shut these faires 
Within the rampeir of so deepe disdaine, 
To kill a god with sorrowes and dispaires : 
Would God thy powre (to lessen all my paine) 
Were dead in her; or fancies quenchles fire 
Might from my brest with ceaseles course retire. 

But all in vaine (so vaine is loues pursute) 
Trie I her eares, and tempt her hardned heart : 
Cease wretched tongue, twere better still be mute, 
Than tell a tale of griefe and endles smart 
To her that grounds her glories on disdaine, 
And takes a pride to viewe my bitter paine. 

(Fond that I am) all these are faint supposes : 
Imperious Loue (to shewe his endles power) 
My tender and immortall heart encloses 
Within the center of her louely towre : 
That all may see, Loue's prison is her eie, 
And gods must stoope vnto his deitie. 



36 GLAUCUS COMPLAINT. 

Yet (Loue) allot prescriptions vnto woe; 
Els will the sowre exceed the sweete by farre : 
Or leuell pittie from thy lawles bowe, 
That sorrowe in excesse may cause a warre 

That may consume, if not confound my life; 

And I may seeme to die amidst the strife. 

The deafe nill heare: both she and Loue together 
Haue made a match to aggreuate my griefe: 
I see my hell, there rests no hope in either : 
From proud contempt there springeth no reliefe, 

What rests there then, but since I may not gaine 
her, 

In piteous tearmes and teares for to complaine her. 



FINIS. 



37 



THE DISCONTENTED SATYRE. 



WRITTEN BY THOMAS LODGE, GENT. 



Such time as from her mothers tender lap 
The night arose, guarded with gentle winds : 
And with her precious dew refresht the sap 
Of bloome and barke (whilst that her mantle blinds 
The vaile of heauen) and euery bird was still, 
Saue Philomele, that did bemoane her ill. 

"When in the west Orion lift aloft 
His starrie crest, and smiPd vpon the twins : 
And Cynthia, seemely bright (whose eie full oft 
Had watcht her loue) with radient light begins 
To pierce the vaile of silence with her beames, 
Sporting with wanton cleere on Ocean streames. 

When little winds in beating of their wings, 
Did wooe the eies to leaue their wonted wake, 
And all was hnsht saue Zephyrus, that sings 
With louely breathings for the sea-nimphs sake : 
My watchfull griefes perplext my minde so sore, 
That foorth I walkt my sorrowes to deplore. 



38 THE DISCONTENTED SATYRE. 

The doaly season that resembled well 
My drooping heart, gaue life to my lament: 
Each twinckling lamp that in the heauens did dwell 
Can rest his course to hearken mine entent: 
Foorth went I still deuising on my feare 
Distinguishing each footestep with a teare. 

My working thought deluding of my pace 

At last did bring me to a desart dale, 

(By enuious mountaines robd of Phoebus face) 

Where growes no hearbe to taste of deaws auaile, 

In midst thereof, vpon a bed of mosse 

A Satyre did his restles bodie tosse. 

Stearne were his lookes, afflicting all the feelds 
That were in view ; his bushie lockes vndrest 
With terror hang, his hauiour horror yeelds, 
And with the sight my sorrowes were supprest ; 
So, neere I drewe, when sodenly he roase, 
And thus in tearmes his purpose did disclose, 

Blush daies eternal lampe to see thy lot, 

Since that thy cleere with cloudy darkes is scard ; 

Lowre on faire Cynthia for I like thee not ; 

For borrowed beauties, merit no regard : 

Boast Discontent, naught may depresse thy powre, 
Since in thy selfe all griefe thou doost deuoure. 



THE DISCONTENTED SATYRE. 39 

Thou art the God whome I alone adore 
Whose powre includeth discords all in one, 
Confusions are thy foode and fatall store, 
Thy name is fear'd where thou art most vnknowne; 
Thy grace is great, for fortunes laugh and lowre 
Assailes them not, that glorie in thy powre. 

The minde through thee diuines on endlesse things, 
And formes a heauen through others fond mislikes, 
Time loathes thy haunt, yet lends thee many wings: 
Refined wits against thy bulwarke strikes; 
And when their curious thoughts are ouerpast, 
They scorne their bookes, and like thy bent at last. 

For who but thou can yeeld them any gaine? 

Depriue the world of perfect Discontent; 

All glories end, true honor straight is slaine, 

And life itselfe in errors course is spent, 
All toile dooth sort but to a sorrie end, 
For through mislikes, each learnes for to commend. 

What made fierce Phillip's sonne to manage armes, 
To vaile the pride of Persia by his sword, 
But thou my God that he by others harmes 
Might raise his seate : and thereby still afford 
A cause of discontent to them that lost, 
And hate in him that by their powre was crost. 



40 THE DISCONTENTED SATYRE. 

Let enuie cease, what prince can make it knowne 
How deere he loues his best esteemed friends; 
For were not some of purpose ouerthrowne, 
Who may discerne whereto true fauor tends : 
Thus princes discontent dooth honor some, 
And others through their hates to credit come. 

Without thy helpe the soldier shunnes the feeld : 
You studeous arts how fatall haps had you, 
If discontents did not some succors yeeld ? 
Oh, fleeting Fame, who could thy grace pursue : 
Did not my God send emulations out 
To whet the wits and pens of Pallas' rout. 

How could the heauens haue retrograde aspects 
Without thy helpe ? how might the plannets finde 
Their oppositions, and their strange effects, 
Unlesse thy powre assisted euerie kinde ? 
The aire by thee at first inuented voice, 
Which once reuerberate, straight yeelds a noice. 

The pencile man that with a careles hand 
Hath shaddowed Venus, hates his slack regard ; 
And all amaz'd doth discontented stand, 
And mends the same that he before had mard: 
Who sees not then that it was Discontent 
That sight to eie, and perfect iudgement lent? 



THE DISCONTENTED SATYRE. 41 

The schooleman that with heedlesse florish writes 
Refines his fault, if thou direct his eie : 
And then againe with wonder he endites 
Such sweete sententious lines as neuer die: 
Lost in my selfe in praising of thy might 
My speech yeelds vp his office to delight. 

This said, he smild, and on his restles bed 
Reposde, and tost his indisposed lims : 
A world of thoughts still hammerd in his head, 
Now would he sleepe, and straight his couch he trims: 
And then he walkes, and therewith sits him downe: 
And faines to sing, yet endeth with a frowne. 

I stood amaz'd and wondred at his words, 
And sought to suck the soule from out his lips, 
His rare discourse such wondrous ioye affords : 
But vn aw ares like lightfoote fawne he trips 
Along the lawnes: and I with watch forespent, 
Drew home, and vowde to honor Discontent. 

THOMAS LODGE. 



FINIS. 



42 



SUNDRIE SWEETE SONNETS. 

WRITTEN BY THE SAID GENT. 
IN PRAISE OF THE COUNTREY LIFE. 

Most liappie blest the man that midst his countrie 

bowers 
Without suspect of hate, or dread of enuious tongue 
May dwell among his owne : not dreading fortunes 

lowres, 
Farre from those publique plagues that mightie men 

hath stoong; 
Whose libertie and peace is neuer sold for gaine, 
Whose words doo neuer sooth a wanton princes 

vaine. 

Incertaine hopes, and vowes, doo neuer harme his 
thought, 

And vaine desires doo shunne the place of his repose ; 

He weepes no yeares mispent, nor want of that he 
sought, 

Nor reapes his gaine by words, nor builds vpon sup- 
pose : 
The stormes of troubled sea do neuer force his 

fears, 
Nor trumpets sound dooth chang his sleepes or 
charme his ears. 



DELECTABLE SONNETS. 43 

Ambitions neuer build within his constant minde, 
A cunning coy deceipt his soule dooth not disguise, 
His firme and constant faith corruptions neuer blind, 
He neuer waits his weale from princes wandring 
eyes: 
But liuing well, content with euerie kinde of thing, 
He is his proper court, his fauor, and his king. 

His will (restraind by wit) is neuer forst awrie, 
Vaine hopes and fatall feares (the courtiers common 

foes) 
(Afraid by his foresight) doo shun his piercing eye ; 
And naught but true delight acquaints him where he 

goes, 
No high attempts to winne, but humble thoughts 

and deeds, 
The veriefruites and flowers that spring from vertues 

seeds. 

(O deities diuine) your godheads I adore 

That haunt the hills, the feelds, the forrests and the 

springs, 
That make my quiet thoughts contented with my store, 
And fixe my hopes on heauen, and not on earthly 
things ; 
That driue me from desires,(in view of courtly strife), 
And drawe me to commend the fields and countrie 
life. 



44 DELECTABLE SONNETS. 

My thoughts are now enclosde within my proper land, 
And if my bodie sleepe my minde dooth take his rest, 
My simple zeale and loue my dangers doo withstand, 
The mornings pleasant ayer inuites me from my nest, 
If wether wax too warme I seeke the silent shade, 
If frosts afflict, I striue for warmth by hunters trade. 

Although my biding home be not imbost with gold, 
And that with cunning skill my chambers are not drest 
(Whereas the curious eye my sundrie sights behold) 
Yet feedes my quiet lookes on thousand flowers at 
least, 
The treasures of the plaine,the beauties of the spring, 
Made rich with roses sweete and euerie pleasant 
thing. 

Amidst thepallace braue puftvp with wanton showes 
Ambicions dwell, and there false fauors find disguise, 
There lodge consuming cares that hatch our common 

woes: 
Amidst our painted feelds the pleasant Fayrie lies, 
And all those powers diuine, that with untrussed 

tresses, 
Contentment, happie loue, and perfect sport pro- 
fesses. 

So liuing, naught remaines my solace to betray ; 
Iheare the pleasant birds record their sacred straines, 



DELECTABLE SONNETS. 45 

When at the mornings rise they blesse the springing 

day: 
The murmuring fountains noise from out the marble 
vaines, 
Are pleasing to mine eares : whilst with a gentill fall 
They fleete from hie, and serue to wet the meads 
withall. 

What sport may equal this, to see two prettie doues 
When neb to neb they ioyne, in fluttering of their 

wings, 
And in their roundelaies with kisses seale their loues? 
Then wondering at the gifts which happie nature 
brings ; 
What sport is it to sleepe and slumber by a well, 
Whose fleeting falls maks show, some louely tale 
to tell? 

Oh what content to see amidst the darksome night 

(When as the setting sonne hath left the moone in 
place) 

The nimphes amidst the vales and groues to take 
delight 

To dance, to leap, to skip, with sweet and pleasant 
grace, 
To giue greene gownes in sport, and in their trip- 
ping make 
By force of footing all the springing grasse to 
quake. 



46 DELECTABLE SONNETS. 

Their dances brought to end, I lift my lookes one hie 
To see the horned moone, and desk ant on her hew 
Cleeresiluer shining bright, andeftsoones then think I 
Vpon that happie chance the Latmian shepheardknew : 
Then doo I wish myselfe as faire a friend as she, 
But watching I desire she might disport with me. 

Thus midst the silent night myselfe I doo content : 
Then when as Phoebus' beames our hemisphere en- 
flames ; 
A thousand change of sports for pleasure I inuent, 
And feast my quiet thoughts with sundrie pleasant 
games, 
Now angle I awhile, then seek I for the chace, 
And straight my limerods catch the sparrows on 
the place. 

I like, and make some loue : but yet in such a sort 
That naught but true delight my certaine sute pursues ; 
My libertie remaines, and yet I reape the sport, 
Nor can the snares of loue my heedfull thoughts abuse : 
But when I would forgoe, I haue the power to flie, 
And stand aloofe and laugh, while others starue 
and die, 

My sweete and tender flocks (my faithfull feeld com- 
peers) 

You forrests, hoults, and groues, you meads and 
mountaines hie, 



POEMS. 47 

Be you the witnesses of my contented yeares : 
And you, O sacred powers, vouchsafe my humble crie, 

And during all my daies,doo not those ioyes estrange ; 

But let them still remaine, and graunt no other 
change. 

FINIS. 



POEMS. 

IN COMMENDATION OF A SOLITARIE LIFE. 

Not yet forsaken (gentle Muse) draw neere, 
And helpe to wearie out these worldly thoughts ; 
Goe fit thy methode to my moodie cheere, 
For why fond pleasure now preuaileth noughts : 
Since where contents and wealthie state declines, 
The heart dooth droope, and dolefull be the lines. 

Forthy (fond man) why rest I not at last ? 
My wings of hope are clipte by foule disgrace : 
The siluer downe of age now flocketh fast, 
Like mosse on oake to dwell vpon my face : 

And what with thoght and time through want and 
ruth : 

I challenge care for ioy, and age for youth. 



48 POEMS. 

What fruites of former labours doo I finde ? 

My studious pen dooth traffique for a scorne : 

My due deserts are but repaid with winde ; 

And what t earne, is naught but bitter mourne : 
In which accompt I reap but this aduise, 
To cease to clime, and liue contented wise. 

But gentle Muse, where boadeth this content? 
The princes court is fraught with endlesse woes, 
Corruptions flocke where honours doo frequent, 
The cities swarme with plagues, with sutes, with 
foes : 
High climing wits doo catch a sodein fall, 
With none of those content list dwell withall. 

Ah beautie of the double topped hill, 
Thou saddest sister of the sacred Nine, 
What fruitfull pleasure followeth now my quill? 
What wondrous beauties blesse my drooping eine? 
Even such as earst the shepheard in the shade 
Beheld, when he a poet once was made. 

Methinkes I see the deserts fresh arraid, 
New mantled in their liueries of greene, 
Whose frolicke pride makes smiling heauen apaid; 
Wherein the nymphs doo wearie out their teene, 
Washing their iuorie in those murmuring springs, 
At whose kinde fall, the birds with pleasure sings. 






POEMS. 49 

See where the babes of memorie are laid 
Vnder the shadow of Apollo's tree, 
That pleit their garlands fresh, and well apaid, 
And breath foorth lines of daintie poecie : 

Ah world farewell, the sight hereof dooth tell, 
That true content dooth in the desert dwell. 

See where a caue presents itselfe to eie 
By Nature's hand enforst in marble vaines ; 
Where climing cedars with their shades denie 
The eye of day to see what there remaines : 
A couch of mosse, a brooke of siluer cleere, 
And more, for foode a flocke of sauage deere. 

Then here (kinde Muse) vouchsafe to dwell with me, 
My veluet robe shal be a weede of gray, 
And least my heart by tongue betrayed be, 
For idle talke I will goe fast and pray : 

No sooner said and thought, but that my heart 
His true supposde content gan thus impart. 

Sweete solitarie life, thou true repose, 
Wherein the wise contemplate heauen aright, 
In thee no dread of warre or worldly foes, 
In thee no pompe seduceth mortall sight, 
In thee no wanton eares to win with words, 
Nor lurking toyes, which citie life afFoords. 

D 



?>0 POEMS. 

At peepe of day, when in her crimson pride, 
The morne bespreds with roses all the waie 
Where Phoebus' coach with radiant course must glide, 
The hermit bends his humble knees to pray; 
Blessing that God, whose bountie did bestow 
Such beauties on the earthly things below. 

Whether with solace tripping on the trees, 
He sees the citizens of forrest sport, 
Or midst the withered oake beholds the bees 
Intend their labour with a kinde consort: 

Downe drop his teares, to thinke how they agree, 
Where men alone with hate inflamed bee. 

Taste he the fruites that spring from Tellus* woomb, 
Or drinke he of the christall springs that flowes : ' 
He thankes his God, and sighes their cursed doomb 
That fondly wealth in surffetting bestowes : 

And with Saint Hierom saith, the desert is 

A paradise of solace, ioy, and blis. 



Father of light, thou maker of the heauen, 
From whom my being well, and being springs, 
Bring to effect this my desired steauen 
That I may leaqe the thoughts of worldly things : 
Then in my troubles will I blesse the time, 
My Muse \ouchsafde me such a luckie rime. 

T. L. 
FINIS. 






POEMS. >1 

BEAUTIES LULLABIE. 

Hos ego versiculos feci, tulit alter honores. 

Gentlemen, I had thought to haue suppressed this Lul- 
labie in silence, amongst my other papers that lie buried 
in obliuion: but the impudent arrogancie of some more 
than insolent poets haue altered my purpose in that respect, 
and made me set my name to my owne worke, least some 
other vaine glorious Batillus should preiudice my paines, by 
subscribing his name to that which is none of his owne. 

Non mesured. 

Lullabie beautie, sweete beautie lullabie ; 
To such kind of infants sing lulla would J. 

Sweet, sweet desire that made my pleasant wondring 

eyes 
To gaze on such a blazing starre, as dims the state 

of skies: 

Whose feature, while my Muse doth now deuise vpon ; 
Sweet beautie rest thee still awhile, I shall haue done 

anon. 

First lulla to those lockes deriu'd from Phoebus' rayes> 
Which fasten light in dimmest lookes by vertue of 

their sprayes, 
From whence her golden wiers Diana borrowed then, 
When with Arachne at the loombe she stroue amidst 

the fen. 

d 2 



52 POEMS. 

Next lulla to the front where onlie shrowdes the die, 
Which ruddie Morrow borrowed then when Thetis 

she did spie 
To hunt forbidden bed, whereas vermillion hue 
Is stain'd in sight, and euery sense approues my 

censure true. 

Next lulla to those statelie couerts of her eyes, 

In which in alablaster white dame Nature did deuise 

A subtil frame of setled wiers, in such confused art : 

As those that looke but on that worke amazed doo 

depart. 

Next lulla to those lamps those twinckling stemmes 

of state: 
Whereof but one, doth dim the sunne (both sunne 

and moone do mate) 
On which while Ioue doth prie, the ielous Iuno chides; 
Thus gods and men admire at her in whom such 

beautie bides. 

But he that doth but marke those rocks of marble 

white, 
From whence do spring those sweet perfumes, the] 

senses that delight, 
And sees with how great state the ruddie lippes they 

shade, 
Wil think the workman more diuine that such a work 

hath made. 



POEMS. 53 

Now see those crimson cheekes, the mounts wherein 

do dwell, 
The golden fruit iEneas fet from midst the mouth of 

hell 
Bedect with driuen snow, and pounst with rubie red ; 
To which compare the ruddie rose, and it will seeme 

but dead. 

Next praise those cherrie lips where rose and lillie 

meete, 
Enclosures of th' Egiptian gems from whence doth 

Zephir sweet 
Breath foorth a blast, and yeeld an noyse like to 

Orpheus' lute, 
Which mou'd the craggie rocks to ruth, and stird 

what so was mute. 

Yet in that dimpled chinne bedect with euery grace, 
Where curious eye may easlie see the beautie of the 

face; 
Admit but this, that Ganimede the cuppe of Ioue did 

chuse : 
And if a man might drink with gods, would I the 

same might vse. 

Then blessed be those mounts where Venus sits 
and sings, 
With wanton Cupid in her lappe, and from those 
statelie springs 



54 POEMS. 

Drawes Nectar forth to feed her sonne: which tast 

him so beguild, 
That onlie for to sucke those teates, he still would be 

a child. 

But looke a low (my Muse) and fixe thy statelic 

view: 
Behold a path like Dedalls maze, wherein with azure 

clew 
A Theseus may the secret cells of beautie there behold, 
More statelie than th* Egiptian tombes, though reared 

all of gold. 

Next which of alablaster white a mountaine there 
doth rise, 
A mountaine faire of driuen snowe, wherein incarued 

lies 
A statelie tipe of Venus' vale: some call it Cupid's 

couch ; 
Whereas the God deuising lies which part were best 
to touch. 

There spies he earth's Elizium, where Nature sits 

and paints 
Th' impressions of the sweetest formes her fancie her 

acquaints : 
In which one lulla I would rocke to Beauties grace, 
And be a prentise during life to serue her in that place. 



POEMS. 55 

Nextlulla to those forts w hereout doth fancieprie, 
As one amaz'd to see the starre is fixt before her eye. 
A crinite comet crisped faire which on those arches 

stands 
Of marble white enameled, and closde with azure 
bands. * 

But he that sees those knees, whose feature is so 
faire, 

As when they bend, all knees do bend below and 
midst the aire; 

Whose cords by compasse knit, and nerues by Na- 
ture set 

Bindes Art apprentise for some yeres the patterne 
for to get. 

Here rests not wonders yet: for why behold a lowe 
Two rising siluer coloured clowdes, which like to 

those doo shewe, 
As compast in faire Phoebus then, when in his midday 

prime 
He sported with Cassandra faire, amidst the Sommer 

time. 

Now Nature stands amazd herselfe to looke on 

Beauties feete, 
To see those ioynts combinde in one, and fram'd of 

amber sweete, 
So small a pile so great a waight, like Atlas to vphold 
The bodie, as the mightie man to beare the heauens 

is bold. 



56 POEMS. 

But to behold those Gemini, those sillier coloured 

armes, 
Whom natiue bloud with blushing streames in azure 

conduits warmes, 
Inuite the sence like violets, bepurfurated faire 
With Flora's lillies, lillie white these louelie branches 

are. 

But whilest I gaze a low, and see those palmes of 

peace, 
Wherein the mappe of fortune rests and times di scents 

increase : 
From whence the branching fingers spred betipt with 

iuorie, 
The least impression whereof a marble mind might 

mollifie. 

Makes me confesse pen may not write, hart think, 

nor tung vnfold 
The least effect in Beautie, where both iuorie, pearle, 

and gold, 
Where purphure, ebonie, white and red, al colours 

stained bee : 
And if thou seeke for all those sweetes, then seeke 

my sweete to see. 



57 



SUNDRIE SWEETE SONNETS. 

WRITTEN BY THE SAME GENT. 
1. 

A verie Phoenix, in her radiant eies 
I leaue mine age, and get my life againe ; 
True Hesperus, I watch her fall and rise: 
And with my teares extinguish all my paine. 

My lips for shadowes shield her springing roses, 
Mine eies for watchmen guard her while she sleepeth, 
My reasons serue to quite her faint supposes : 
Her fancie, mine; my faith her fancie keepeth ; 
She flowre, I branch ; her sweetes my sowres sup- 
ported, 
O happie loue, where such delights consorteth. 



2. 

I vow, but with some griefe henceforth to shunne the 

place, 
Where beautie casts her scortching lookes to feede 

me with disgrace. 
D3 



58 SONNETS. 

And since I was so fond to build on such a molde, 
As euery waue of vaine conceit the substance may 
vnfolde ; 
I will repent with teares the errors of my mind, 
And leaue to tie my thoughts to like of wanton 
womankind. 

Whose wayward wiles I spie how full of sleights they 

be, 
The heart delights in others choise, the hand yet 

faunes on me, 
And faine she would forsake, yet followes if I shunne, 
And with her tung repents the time that ere the fact 

was done. 
And yet she will be thought as constant as the best; 
Yet scornes the man that beareth faith and courage 

in his crest. 

Whom if she list to knowe, his colour sable is ; 

A mournful colour meete for those whose eyes, haue 

gaz'd amis: 
His colour pale for woe, his courage all forlorne; 
His hart confirmed to shun the sex that holds his 
faith in scorne. 
Willing all men to learne, least they be forst to proue, 
That women alter with the wind, and haue no hold in 
loue. 



SONNETS. 59 



3. 



The heauens inclinde to change, are passing cleere, 
Their showres restraind make billowes of mine eies, 
Their windes made calme within my breast appeere, 
Which dims the aire with sighs and heauie cries. 

My frozen loue hath laid the frost adowne, 
These snowes restraind seme to congeale my heart, 
This pleasant spring my stormie sorrowes frowne : 
Goe lying bookes, cease fooles to boast your art, 

And mark the cause: my Mistres smiles and lowres. 

Makes cleere the heavens, and clowdes my heart 
with showers. 



4. 



I will become a Hermit now 

And doo my penance straight 
For all the errors of mine eyes 

With foolish rashnes fild : 
My hermitage shall placed be 

Where melancholies waight, 
And none but loue alone shall knowe 

The bower I meane to build. 
My daylie diet shall be care, 

Made calme by no delight: 



-.. - 



A 

P 






60 SONNETS. 

My dolefull drinke, my drierie teares, 

Amidst the darkesome place 
The fire that burnes my heedles heart 

Shall stand instead of light, 
And shall consume my wearie life 

Mine errors to deface. 
My gowne shall be of spreding gray 

To clad my limmes withall : 
My late repent vpon my browe 

Shall plainlie written be. 
My tedious greife and great remorse 

That doth my soule enthrall, 
Shall serue to plead my wearie paines 

And pensiue miserie. 
Of faintfull hope shall be my stafFe, 

And daylie when I pray, 
My mistris picture plac't by loue 

Shall witnes what I say. 



5. 



If that I seeke the shade, T sodeinlie do see 
The God of Loue forsake his bow, and sit me by : 
If that I thinke to write, his Muses pliant be : 
If that I plaine my griefe, the wanton boy will crie. 



SONNETS. 61 

If I lament my cares, he dooth increase niy paine : 
If teares my cheeks attaint, his cheeks be moyst 

with mone : 
If I disclose the wounds, the which my heart hath 

slaine, 
He takes his Fascia off and wipes them drie anone. 

If that I walke the woods, the woods are his delight: 
If I myselfe torment, he bathes him in my blood: 
He will my souldier be if once I wend to fight: 
If seas delight, he steeres my barke amid the floud: 
In briefe, the cruel! God dooth neuer from me goe, 
But makes my lasting loue eternall by my woe. 



6. 



Wearie am I to wearie Gods and men, 
Wearie am I to weep so manie teares 

without some succor: 
Wearie am I my wretched state to ken, 
Wearie am I to see my wofull yeares 

consume with dolor. 
These mounts, these fields, these rocks, these waues, 
these woods 



62 SONNETS. 

Resigne their ecchoes to my wofuil cries, 

too much disdained 
These lambes, these kidds, these bullockes leaue their 

foods, 
These flowers, this grasse, with mourning parched lies 

to see me pained. 
Naught vnder Sunne that hath not tasted change, 
My bitter griefe alone abideth still 

without departure. 
Accurst be loue, that wrought this wonder strange, 
Boading my sorrowes by my wanton will 

that causde my smarting. 
Oh quiet life forepast, why hast thou left 
The wofuil shepheard wearie of his paine 

to feede on sorrow ? 
Oh weeping eies of wonted ioyes bereft, 
Why leaue you him whom lucklesse Loue hath slaine 

to view the morrow? 
My faintfull flocke dooth languish and lament, 
To see their master mourning his mischance 

this iolly season : 
My bagpip's broke, my roundelaies are blent, 
My rebeck e now my solace to aduance 

accounts it geason : 
Yet not alone sheepe, lambes, kidds weepe my woe: 
But rockes for ruth, and birds for sorow plaine 

my wofuil wending : 
Then cruell Loue vouchsafe me to forgoe 
My wretched life, the cause of mickle paine, 

and make mine ending. 






SONNETS. 63 

The rockes their brookes with murmuring noyse shall 

weepe, 
The birds their songs with warbling notes shall sing: 

and full of pleasure 
My flockes shall feede, although their master sleep, 
And to my graue their falling fleeces bring 

their natiue treasure. 
Solace each where shall raigne when I am dead, 
No care, no woe, no sorrow shall preuaile: 

but well contented 
Poore I shall sleep, when cursed Loue is fled, 
That first with furie did the fields assaile 

where I frequented. 



7. 

The earth late choakt with showers 

Is now araid in greene : 

Her bosome springs with flowers, 

The aire dissolues her teene, 
The heauens laugh at her glorie : 
Yet bide I sad and sorie. 

The woods are deckt with leaues, 
And trees are cloathed gaie, 
And Flora crownd with sheues 
With oaken boughs dooth play : 
Where I am clad in blacke, 
The token of my wracke. 



64 SONNETS. _ 

The birds vpon the trees 
Doo sing with pleasant voices, 
And chaunt in their degrees 
Their loues and luckie choices : 
When I whilst they are singing, 
With sighs mine armes am wringing. 

The Thrushes seeke the shade, 
And I my fatall graue : 
Their flight to heauen is made 
My walke on earth I haue : 

They free, I thrall: they iolly, 

I sad and penciue wholly. 



8. 

When with aduice I weigh my yeares forepast, 
And count the course that in my youth I kept: 
How my fond eies on garish beautie plast, 
Dimde by desires in vaine opinion slept : 

For euerie looke and thought with teares I crie, 
I loath the faults and follies of mine eie. 

By which my heart was burnt with scorching flame, 
Growing to head by stealth of idle time, 
Whom oft my lookes with blushing red did blame ; 
But follie fixt before it grew to prime : 

So for my wanton lookes with teares I crie, 
I loath the faults and follies of mine eie. 



SONNETS. 65 

Oh wanton lookes, yee foes of sad forecast, 
That wept the teares of will, and not repent ; 
Now see the end how fickle faire is past, 
And crimson cheekes with crooked yeares are spent: 
And blame yourselues, and helpe my carefull crie, 
Who loath the faults and follies of mine eye. 



9. 

Hand, heart, and eye ; toucht, thought, and did behold 
A lock, a ioye, a looke of great delight, 
Lookes sweet, ioyes rare, but lockes of beaten gold, 
Hearts ioye, eyes lookes, hands touch so pleasde my 
sight; 
That what I would, by eye, hand, heart, I trie, 
And what I am, is but hand, heart and eye. 



10. 

If hollowe eyes, if wan and wearish face, 
If scalding sighes my secret suites bewray: 
Loe (Loue) those lookes that want their former grace 
And dying thoughts which secret ioyes betray. 
And grant me this that either death may ease, 
Or humble suite my mistris' wrath appease. 



66 



SONNETS. 



Whose dire disdaine more pines my fainting heart, 
Than iEtnaes flame that fumes both night and day: 
Whose wisdome when it measures by desart, 
Dissolues my doubts and driues my woes away : 

Whose lookes if once they yeeld me beames of 
grace, 

Discharge the furrowes that befret my face. 

Twixt hope and happe my shippe doth beare a saile, 
The Seas are sighes, the Ancker slipper ioye ; 
Would Sea and Ancker both, and tacke might faile, 
So land of loue were gain'd to foile annoye. 
I say no more, the teare that last did fall 
On latter line, can shewe and open all. 



11. 

A Satyre sitting by a riuer side, 
Foreworne with care that hardlie findes recure: 
A straying nymph in passion did deride 
His teares, his care, her smiles her scornes assure : 
He wept, she wisht, and all their thoughts among 
Fancie beheld and sung this carefull song. 

Perhaps the furrowes in thy wrinckled face 
Growne by thy griefe, abate thy wonted form : 
Perhaps her eye was formde to yeeld disgrace, 
And blemisht that which wit may not reforme. 
Perhaps she will if so thou list to proue, 
Perhaps she likes, and yet she dares not loue. 



SONNETS. 67 

But if (perhaps) thy fortune be so faire, 
Laugh Satyre, then it proues a pretie prize: 
And if thou wilt, so liue to shunne dispaire 
As looking long thou keepe thy proper eyes. 
This said, she ceast, the Nymph she fled away, 
And good perswasion causde the Satyre play. 



J 2. 

Fa ire Phoebus flowre vpon a summer morne 
Gan proud with loue to shewe her painted pride, 
And gay with glorie with a curious scorne, 
Disdainde those buds that blossom'd her beside. 

When Rose and Lillies, Violets and Balme, 
(Scarce warm'd to worke their beauties to a flowre) 
With enuious wrath neere to a water calme 
Behold my Phillis in a happie howre. 

Not wak't nor wonne too much with solemne sleepe, 
But sweetlie slombring they behold my Saint, 
The Rose and Lillies both together creepe ; 
The one her lip, the next her cheeke did taint. 

And both they spread : the Violet consumed 
To gentle ayre her amber breath fulfilled: 
Appollo feeling all the aire perfumde, 
With gentle beames into her eves distilled, 



68 SONNETS. 

His flowre amaz'd, gaue Rose and Lillies place, 
The Sunne his shine within her eyes containeth, 
The Rose her lips, the Lillies decke her face, 
The Violet within her breath remaineth. 



LENVOY. 

Then cease (fond men) henceforth to boast your 

flowers, 
Since Roses, Lillies, Violets are ours : 
And Phoebus' flowre doth homage to their powers, 
And Phillis' eye his glorious beames deuours. 



FINIS. 



CONTENTS. 



Page 

The historie of Glaucus and Scilla i 

Glaucus' complaint 34 

The discontented Satyre 37 

SUNDRIE SWEET SONNETS, IN PRAISE OF THE COUNTREY 
LIFE. 

u Most happie blest the man that midst his countrie 
bowers." , 42 



POEMS. 

In commendation of a solitarie life 47 

Beautie's lullabie 51 

SUNDRIE SWEETE SONNETS. 

1. "A verie Phoenix, in her radiant eyes" 57 

2. " I vow, but with some griefe henceforth to shunne 

the place," ib. 

3. " The heavens inclinde to change, are passing 

cleere." 59 

4. " I will become a hermit now" ib. 

5. " If that I seeke the shade, I sodeinlie do see,"... 60 

6. "Wearie am I to wearie gods and men," 61 






70 CONTENTS. 

Page 

7. " The earth late choakt with showers." 63 

8. " When with advice I weigh my yeares forepast," 64 

9. " Hand, heart, and eye, toucht, thought, and did 

behold," 65 

10. " If hollowe eyes, if wan and wearish face,".... ib. 

11. tc A Satyre sitting by a river side," 66 

12. " Faire Phoebus flowre upon a summer morne," 67 
L'Envoy 68 



REPRINTED BY C. WHITTINGHAM. 

MDCccxvirr. 



VERSES 

FROM 

ROSALYNDE. 

BY THOMAS LODGE. 
1592. 



The Pastoral Romance from whence the following 
verses are extracted, afforded Shakspeare the hints for 
his exquisite comedy of " As You like it." The edi- 
tion used on this occasion was printed in 1592, under 
the following title : 

ROSALYNDE. EUPHUES' GOLDEN LEGACIE, 

FOUND AFTER HIS DEATH IN HIS CELL AT SILEXEDRA. 

BEQVEATHED TO PHILAVTVS' SONNES, 

NOURSED VP WITH THEIR FATHER IN ENGLAND. 

Fetcht from the Canaries by T. L. Gent* 

LONDON : 

Printed by Abel Ieffes, for T. G. and John Busbie. 

1592. 



THE 
CONTENTS OF THE SCHEDULE 

WHICH 

SIR JOHN OF BOURDEAUX 

GAUE TO HIS SONNES. 



XLy sonnes, behold what portion I do giue, 
I leaue you goods, but they are quickly lost: 
I leaue aduise, to schoole you how to liue : 
I leaue you wit, but wonne with little cost: 
But keepe it well, for counsaile still is one, 
When father, friends, and worldly goods are gone. 

In choice of thrift let honour be your gaine, 
Winne it by vertue and by manly might; 
In dooing good esteeme thy toyle no paine, 
Protect the fatherlesse and widowes right: 
Fight for thy faith, thy country, and thy king, 
For why ? this thrift wil proue a blessed thing. 
e2 



i 



76 VERSES FROM 

111 choise of wife, preferre the modest chast, 
Lillies are faire in shew, but foule in smell : 
The sweetest lookes by age are soone defast: 
Then choose thy wife by wit and lining well. 
Who brings thee wealth and many faults withal, 
Presents thee hony mixt with bitter gall. 

In choise of friends, beware of light beleife, 
A painted tongue may shroud a subtill heart : 
The Syrens teares doe threaten mickle griefe, 
Foresee my sonnes, for feare of sodaine smart: 
Chuse in your wants, and he that friends you then, 
When richer growne, befriend you him agen. 

Learne with the ant in summer to prouide, 
Driue with the bee the droane from out the hiue : 
Buyld lyke the swallow in the summer tyde. 
Spare not too much (my sonnes), but sparing thriue, 
Be poore in folly, rich in all but sinne, 
So by your death your glory shall beginne. 



lodge's euphues. 77 

ROSALYND'S MADRIGALL. 

Loue in my bosome like a bee 

Doth sucke his sweete : 
Now with his wings he playes with me, 

Now with his feete. 
Within mine eyes he makes his nest, 
His bed amidst my tender brest, 
My kisses are his dayly feast, 
And yet he robs me of my rest. 

Ah wanton, will ye ? 

And if I sleepe, then pearcheth he 

With pretty flight, 
And makes his pillow of my knee 

The liuelong night. 
Strike I my lute, he tunes the string, 
He musicke playes if so I sing, 
He lends me euery louely thing: 
Yet cruell he my heart doth sting: 

Whist wanton still ye ? 

Else I with roses euery day 

Will whip you hence : 
And binde you when you long to play, 

For your offence. 
He shut mine eyes to keepe you in, 
He make you fast it for your sinne, 
He count your power not worth a pinne, 
Alas, what hereby shall I winne, 

If he gainsay me ? 



78 VERSES FROM 

What if I beate the wanton boy 

With many a rod? 
He will repay me with annoy, 

Because a God. 
Then sit thou safely on my knee 
And let thy bower my bosome be : 
Lurke in mine eies I like of thee : 
O Cupid, so thou pittie me, 

Spare not but play thee. 



ROSADERS SONNET 

SENT TO ROSALYNDE. 

Two sunnes at once from one faire heauen there 

shinde, 
Ten braunches from two boughes tipt all with roses, | 
Pure lockes more golden than is golde refinde, 
Two pearled rowes that Nature's pride incloses. 

Two mounts faire marble white, do wne-soft and dainty, 
A snow died orbe : where loue increast by pleasure 
Full wofull makes my heart, and body faintie : 
Hir faire (my woe) exceeds all thought and measure. ^ 

In lines confusde my lucklesse harme appeareth, 
Whom sorrow clowdes, whom pleasant smiling* 
cleareth. 



lodge's euphues. 79 



MONTANUS' PASSION. 

Hadst thou been borne wheras perpetuall cold 
Makes Tanais hard, and mountaines siluer old; 
Had I complainde vnto a marble stone, 
Or to the flouds bewraide my bitter mone, 

I then could beare the burthen of my griefe : 
But euen the pride of countries at thy birth, 
Whilste heauens did smile did new aray the earth 

With flowers cheife. 
Yet thou the flower of beautie blessed borne, 
Hast pretie lookes, but all attirde in scorne. 

Had I the power to weep sweet Mirrhas teares, 
Or by my plaints to pearce repining- eares : 
Hadst thou the heart to smile at my complaint, 
To scorne the woes that doth my hart attaint, 

I then could beare the burthen of my griefe : 
But not my teares, but truth with thee preuailes, 
And seeming sowre my sorowes thee assailes : 

Yet small reliefe. 
For if thou wilt thou art of marble hard: 
And if thou please my suite shall soone be heard. 



BO VERSES FROM 

MONTANUS'S FANCY. 

GRAVEN UPON THE BARKE OF A TALL BEECH TREE. 

First shall the heauens want starry light, 
The seas be robbed of their wanes : 
The day want sunne, and sunne want bright, 
The night want shade, the dead mens graues. 

The April, flowers and leafe and tree, 

Before I false my faith to thee. 

First shall the tops of highest hils 
By humble plaines be ouerpride : 
And poets scorne the Muses quils, 
And fish forsake the water glide; 

And Iris loose her coloured weed, 

Before I faile thee at thy need. 

First direful! hate shall turn to peace, 
And loue relent in deepe disdain; 
And death his fatall stroake shall cease, 
And enuy pitie euery paine, 

And pleasure mourn, and sorow smile, 

Before I talke of any guile. 

First time shall stay his staylesse race, 
And winter blesse his browes with corne : 
And snow bemoisten Julie's face, 
And winter, spring, and summer mourn, 

Before my pen by helpe of fame, 

Cease to recite thy sacred name. 



lodge's euphues. 81 

A PLEASANT EGLOG 

BETWEENE MONTANUS AND CORIDON. 



CORIDON. 

Say shepheards boy, what makes thee greet so sore, 
Why leaues thy pipe his pleasure and delight? 
Yoong are thy yeares, thy cheekes with roses dight: 
Then sing for ioy (sweet swain) and sigh no more. 

This milk white poppy, and this climbing pine, 
Both promise shade, then sit thee downe and sing, 
And make these woods with pleasant notes to ring, 
Till Phoebus daine all westward to decline. 

MONTANUS. 

Ah (Coridon), vnmeet is melody, 
To him whom proud contempt hath ouerborn, 
Slain are my joyes by Phoebus bitter scorn, 
Far hence my weale and nere my ieopardy. 

Loue's burning brand is couched in my brest ? 
Making a phoenix of my faintfull hart : 
And though his furie doo inforce my smart, 
Ay, blyth am I to honour his behest. 
e3 



82 VERSES FROM 

Preparde to woes since so my Phoebe wils, 
My lookes dismaid since Phoebe will disdain, 
I banish blisse, and welcome home my pain, 
So stream my tears as showers from Alpine hils. 

In error's maske I blindfold iudgemenfs eye, 
I fetter reason in the snares of lust, 
I seeme secure, yet know not how to trust, 
I liue by that which makes me liuing dye. 

Deuoyd of rest, companion of distresse, 
Plague to my selfe, consumed by my thought, 
How may my voyce or pipe in tune be brought? 
Since I am reft of solace and delight. 

CORIDON. 

Ah Lorrell lad, what makes thee Herry loue? 
A sugred harme, a poyson full of pleasure, 
A painted shrine ful-fild with rotten treasure, 
A heauen in shew, a hell to them that proue. 

Againe, in seeming shadowed stil with want, 
A broken staffe which follie doth vpholde, 
A flower that fades with euerie frostie colde, 
An orient rose sprong from a withred plant. 

A minute's ioy to gaine a world of griefe, 
A subtil net to snare the idle minde, 
A seeing scorpion, yet in seeming blinde, 
A poore reioyce, a plague without reliefe. 



lodge's euphues. 83 

For thy Montanus follow mine arreede, 

(Whom age hath taught the traines that fancy vseth) 

Leaue foolish loue, for beautie wit abuseth, 

And drownes (by folly) vertue's springing seede. 

MONTANUS. 

So blames the childe the flame, because it burnes, 
And bird the snare, because it doth intrap, 
And fooles true loue, because of sorry hap, 
And saylers cursse the ship that ouerturnes. 

But would the childe forbeare to play with flame, 
And birds beware to trust the fowler's gin, 
And fooles foresee before they fall and sin, 
And maisters guide their ships in better frame. 

The childe would praise the fire because it warmes, 
And birdes reioyce, to see the fowler faile, 
And fooles preuent, before the plagues preuaile, 
And saylers blesse the barke that saues from harmes. 

Ah, Coridon, though many be thy yeares, 
And crooked elde hath some experience left, 
Yet is thy mind of iudgement quite bereft, 
In view of loue, whose power in me appeares. 

The ploughman little wots to turn the pen, 
Or bookeman skils to guide the ploughman's cart, 
Nor can the cobler count the tearmes of art, 
Nor base men iudge the thoughts of mighty men. 



84 VERSES FROM 

Nor withered age (vnmeet for beautie's guide, 
Vncapable of love's impression), 
Discourse of that whose choyce possession 
May neuer to so base a man be tied. 

But I (whom nature makes of tender mold, 
And youth most pliant yeelds to fancie's fire) 
Do build my hauen, and heauen on sweet desire. 
On sweet desire more deere to me than gold. 

Thinke I of loue, O how my lines aspire ? 
How hast the Muses to imbrace my browes, 
And hem my temples in with lawrell bowes, 
And fill my braines with chast and holy fire? 

Then leaue my lines their lonely equipage, 
Mounted beyond the circle of the sunne: 
Amazd I read the stile when I have done, 
And Herry loue that sent that heauenly rage. 

Of Phoebe then, of Phoebe then I sing, 
Drawing the puritie of all the spheares, 
The pride of earth, or what in heauen appeares, 
Her honoured face and fame to light to bring. 

In fluent numbers, and in pleasant vaines, 

I robbe both sea and earth of all their state, 

To praise her parts : I charme both time and fate, 

To blesse the nymph that yeelds me loue-sicke paines. 



lodge's euphtjes. 85 

My sheepe are turnd to thoughts, whom froward will 
Guydes in the restles laborynth of loue ; 
Feare lends them pasture whereso ere they moue, 
And by their death their life renueth still. 

My sheepehooke is my pen, mine oaten reed, 
My paper, where my many woes are written : 
Thus, silly swaine (with loue and fancie bitten), 
I trace the plaines of paine in wofull weed. 

Yet are my cares, my broken sleepes, my teares, 
My dreames, my doubts, for Phoebe sweet to me : 
Who wayteth heauen in sorrowes vale must be, 
And glory shines where daunger most appeares. 

Then, Coridon, although I blith me not, 
Blame me not, man, since sorrow is my sweet: 
So willeth Loue, and Phoebe thinkes it meet, 
And kind Montanus liketh well his lot. 

CORIDON. 

Oh, staylesse youth, by errour so misguided, 
Where will prescribeth lawes to perfect wits, 
Where reason mournes, and blame in triumph sits, 
And folly poysoneth all that time prouided. 

With wilfull blindnesse bleard, prepard to shame, 
Prone to neglect Occasion when she smiles : 
Alas, that loue by fond and froward guiles, 
Should make thee tract the path to endlesse blame. 



86 VERSES FROM 

Ah (my Montanus) cursed is the charme, 
That hath bewitched so thy youthfull eyes : 
Leaue off in time to like these vanities, 
Be forward to thy good, and fly thy harme. 

As many bees as Hibla daily shields, 
As many trie that fleet on Ocean's face, 
As many heards as on the earth do trace, 
As many flowers as decke the fragrant fields. 

As many stars as glorious heauen contains, 
As many storms as wayward winter weepes, 
As many plagues as hell inclosed keepes : 
So many griefes in loue, so many pains. 

Suspitions, thoughts, desires, opinions, prayers ; 
Mislikes, misdeeds, fond ioies, and fained peace, 
Illusions, dreames, great paines, and small increase, 
Vowes, hope, acceptance, scorns,and deepe despaires. 

Truce, warre, and wo, do wait at beautie's gate: 
Time lost, laments, reports, and priuy grudge ; 
And last, fierce Loue is but a partiall Iudge, 
Who yeelds for seruice shame, for friendship hate. 

MONTANUS. 

All adder-like I stop mine eares (fond swaine), 
So charme no more, for I will neuer change. 
Call home thy flocks betime that stragling range : 
For loe, the sunne declineth hence amaine. 



lodge's euphues. 87 



MONTANUS' SONNET. 

Phcebe sate, 
Sweet she sate, 

Sweet sate Phoebe when I saw her. 
White her brow, 
Coy her eye, 

Brow and eye how much you please me? 
Words I spent, 
Sighes I sent, 

Sighes and words could neuer draw hir. 
Oh my loue, 
Thou art lost, 

Since no sight could euer ease thee. 
Phoebe sate 
By a fount, 

Sitting by a fount I spide her : 
Sweet her touch, 
Rare hir voyce ; 

Touch and voyce what may distain you ? 
As she sung, 
I did sigh, 

And by sighs while that I tride her, 
Oh mine eyes, 
You did loose 

Hir first sight whose want did pain yon. 



88 VERSES FROM 

Phoebe's flockes 
White as wool, 

Yet were Phoebe's lockes more whiter* 
Phoebe's eyes, 
Douelike mild, 

Douelike eyes, both mild and crueL 
Montan sweares, 
In your lampes 

He will die for to delight her. 
Phoebe, yeeld, 
Or I die: 

Shall true hearts be fancie's fuel I 



SONNETTO. 

BY ROSADER. 

Of all chast birdes the Phoenix doth excel!, 
Of all strong beastes the Lyon beares the bell, 
Of all sweet flowers the Rose doth sweetest smel, 
Of all faire maydes my Rosalynd is fairest. 

Of all pure metals gold is onely purest, 

Of all high trees the Pine hath highest crest, 

Of all soft sweets, I like my mistriss brest, 

Of all chast thoughts my mistris thoughts are rarest.. 



. 



, 



lodge's euphues. 89 

Of all proud birds the Eagle pleaseth Ioue, 
Of pretie fowles kind Venus likes the Doue, 
Of trees Minerua doth the Oliue loue, 
Of all sweet nimphs I honour Rosalynd. 

Of all her gifts her wisedome pleaseth most, 
Of all her graces vertue she doth boast, 
For all these gifts my life and ioy is lost, 
If Rosalynde proue cruell and vnkind. 



UOSALYNDE'S DESCRIPTION. 

Like to the cleere in highest spheare, 
Where all imperiall glorie shines, 
Of selfe-same colour is her haire, 
Whether vnfolded or in twines : 
Heigh-ho, faire Rosalynde. 

Her eyes are saphires set in snow, 
Refining heauen by euery wincke : 
The gods do feare when as they glow, 
And I doo tremble when I thinke. 
Heigh-ho, would she were mine. 

Her cheekes are lyke the blushing clowde 
That bewtifies Auroraes face, 
Or lyke the siluer crimsin shrowde 
That Phoebus' smiling lookes doth grace : 
Heigh-ho, faire Rosalynd. 



90 VERSES FROM 

Her lippes are like two budded roses 
Whome ranckes of lillies neighbour nie, 
Within which bounds she balme incloses, 
Apt to intice a Deitie : 

Heigh-ho, would she were mine. 

Her necke like to a stately tower, 
Where Loue himselfe imprisoned lies 
To watch for glaunces euery houre, 
From her deuine and sacred eyes, 
Heigh-ho, faire Rosalynd. 

Her pappes are centers of delight, 
Her pappes are orbes of heauenly frame, 
Where Nature molds the deaw of light, 
To feed perfection with the same : 
Heigh-ho, would she were mine. 

With orient pearle, with rubie red, 
With marble white, with saphire blew, 
Her body euery way is fed, 
Yet soft in touch ; and sweet in view : 
Heigh-ho, faire Rosalynde. 

Nature her selfe her shape admires, 
The gods are wounded in her sight, 
And Loue forsakes his heauenly fires, 
And at her eyes his brand doth light : 
Heigh-ho, would she were mine. 



LODGE'S EUPHUES. 91 

Then muse not, nymphes, though I bemone 
The absense of faire Rosalynde, 
Since for her faire there is fairer none, 
Nor for her vertues so deuine. 

Heigh-ho, faire Rosalynde. 
Heigh-ho, my heart, would God that she were mine. 

Periit, quia deperibat. 



ROSADERS SONNET. 

In Sorrowes cell I layd me downe to sleepe, 
But waking woes were iealous of mine eyes, 
They made them watch, and bend themselues to 

weepe, 
But weeping teares their want could not suffice : 
Yet since for her they wept who guides my heart, 
They weeping smile, and triumph in their smart. 

Of these my teares a fountaine fiercely springs, 
Where Venus baynes her selfe incenst with loue, 
Where Cupid bowseth his faire feathred wings : 
But I behold what paines I must approue. 

Care drinkes it drie : but when on her I thinke, 
Loue makes me weepe it full vnto the brinke. 



92 VERSES FROM 

Meane while my sighes yeeld truce vnto my teares, 
By them the windes increast, and fiercely blow : 
Yet, when I sigh the flame more plaine appeares, 
And by their force with greater power doth glow : 
Amids these paines, all Phoenix like I thriue, 
Since loue that yeelds me death, may life reuiue. 

Rosader en esperance. 



ROSADERS SECOND SONETTO. 

Turne I my lookes vnto the skies, 
Loue with his arrows, wounds mine eies, 
If so I gaze vpon the ground, 
Loue then in euery flower is found. 
Search I the shade to flie my paine, 
He meets me in the shade againe : 
Wend I to walke in secret groue, 
Euen there I meet with sacred Loue. 
If so I bayne me in the spring, 
Euen on the brinke I heare him sing : 
If so I meditate alone, 
He will be partner of my mone. 
If so I mourn, he weeps with me, 
And where I am, there will he be. 
When, as I talke of Rosalynd, 
The God from coynesse waxeth kind^ 



lodge's euphues. 93 



And seems in self-same flames to fry, 
Because he loues as wel as I. 
Sweet Rosalynd, for pity rue, 
For why, then Loue, I am more true : 
He if he speed will quickly flie, 
But in thy loue I Hue and die. 



ROSADER'S THIRD SONNET. 

Of vertuous loue my self may boast alone, 
Since no suspect my seruice may attaint : 
For perfect faire she is the only one, 
Whom I esteem for my beloved saint. 
Thus for my faith I only beare the bell, 
And for her faire she only doth excell. 

The let fond Petrarch shrowd his Lawraes praise, 
And Tasso cease to publish his affect, 
Since mine the faith confirmd at all assaies, 
And her's the faire, which all men do respect. 
My lines hir faire, hir faire my faith assures, 
Thus I by loue, and loue by me indures. 



94 VERSES FROM 

THE WOOING EGLOGUE 

BETWIXT 

ROSALYNDE AND ROSADER. 

I pray thee nymph by all the working words, 
By all the teares and sighs that louers know, 
Or what our thoughts or faltring tongue affords, 
I craue for mine in ripping vp my woe. 
Sweet Rosalynd my loue (would God my loue) 
My life (would God my life) aye, pitie me : 
Thy lips are kind, and humble like the doue, 
And but with beautie pitie wil not be. 
Looke on mine eyes made red with rueful teares, 
From whence the raine of true remorse descendeth, 
All pale in lookes, and I, though yoong in yeares, 
And nought but loue or death my dayes befriendeth. 
Oh, let no stormy rigour knit thy browes, 
Which Loue appointed for his mercy seat : 
The tallest tree by Boreas breath it bowes, 
The yron yeels with hammer, and to heat. 

Oh, Rosalynd, then be thou pitifull, 

For Rosalynd is only beautifull. 

ROSALYNDE. 

Loue's wantons arme their traitrous sutes with teares, 
With vows, with oaths, with lookes, with showers of 
But when the fruit of their affects appeares, [gold : 
The simple heart by sub till sleights is sold. 



lodge's euphues. 95 

Thus sucks the yeelding eare the poysoned bait, 
Thus feeds the hart vpon his endles harmes, 
Thus glut the thoughts themselues on self deceit, 
Thus blind the eyes their sight by subtil charmes. 
The louely lookes, the sighs that storme so sore, 
The deaw of deep dissembled doublenesse. 
These may attempt, but are of power no more, 
Where beauty leanes to wit and soothfastnesse. 

Oh, Rosader, then be thou wittifull, 

For Rosalynd scorns foolish pitifull. 

ROSADER. 

I pray thee Rosalynd by those sweet eyes 
That stain the sun in shine, the morn in cleare, 
By those sweet cheeks where Loue encamped lyes 
To kisse the roses of the springing yeare. 
tempt thee Rosalynd by ruthfull plaints, 
Not seasoned with deceipt or fraudfull guile, 
But firm in payn, far more than toong depaints, 
Sweet nymph, be kind, and grace me with a smile. 
So may the heauens preserue from hurtfull food 
Thy harmlesse flockes, so may the summer yeeld 
The pride of all her riches and her good, 
To fat thy sheepe (the cittizens of field). 
Oh, leaue to arme thy louely browes with scorne : 
The birds their beake, the lyon hath his taile, 
And louers nought but sighs and bitter mourne, 
The spotlesse fort of fancie to assaile. 

Oh, Rosalynde, then be thou pittifull : 

For Rosalynde is onely beautifull. 



96 VERSES FROM 

ROSALYNDE. 

The hardned Steele by fire is brought in frame : 

ROSADER. 

And Rosalynde my loue than any wool more softer: 
And shall not sighes her tender hart inflame? 

ROSALYNDE. 

Were louers true, maydes would beleeue them ofter, 

ROSADER. 

Truth and regard, and honour guid my loue. 

ROSALYNDE. 

Faine would I trust, but yet I dare not trie. 

ROSADER. 

Oh pitie me sweet nymph, and do but proue. 

ROSALYNDE. 

I would resist, but yet I know not why. 

ROSADER. 

Oh, Rosalynde, be kinde, for times will change, 
Thy lookes ay nill be faire as now they be, 
Thine age from beautie may thy lookes estrange : 
Ah, yeeld in time sweet nymph and pitie me. 



lodge's euphues. 97 

rosalynde. 
Oh, Rosalynde, thou must be pittifull: 
For Rosader is yong and beautifull. 

ROSADER. 

Oh gaine more great than kingdomes or a erowne. 

ROSALYNDE. 

Oh trust betraid if Rosader abuse me. 

ROSADER. 

First let the heauens conspire to pull me downe, 
And heauen and earth as abject quite refuse me: 
Let sorrowes streame about my hatefull bower, 
And retchlesse horror hatch within my brest; 
Let beauties eye afflict me with a lower, 
Let deepe despaire pursue me without rest: 
Ere Rosalynde my loyaltie disproue, 
Ere Rosalynde accuse me for vnkind. 

ROSALYNDE. 

Then Rosalynde will grace thee with her loue, 
The Rosalynde will haue thee still in mind. 

ROSADER. 

Then let me triumph more than Tithon's deere, 
Since Rosalynde will Rosader respect : 
Then let my face exile his sorry cheere, 
And frolike in the comfort of affect; 
And say, that Rosalynde is onely pittifull, 
Since Rosalynde is onely beautifull. 



98 . VERSES FROM 



MONTANUS' SONNET. 

A turtle sate upon a leauelesse tree. 

Mourning her absent pheare, 

With sad and sorry cheare : 

About her wondring stood 

The citizens of wood, 

And for her loue laments, 

The stately trees complaine them, 

The birds with sorrow paine them : 

Each one that doth her view, 

Her paine and sorrowes rue, 

But were the sorrowes knowne, 

That me hath ouerthrowne, 
Oh, how would Phoebe sigh, if she did look on me ? 

The love-sicke Polypheme that could not see, 
Who on the barraine shore, 
His fortunes doth deplore, 
And melteth all in mone, 
For Galatea gone : 
And with his piteous cries, 
Afflicts both earth and skies : 
And to his woe betooke, 
Doth breake both pipe and hooke: 
For whome complaines the Morne, 
For whom the sea nymphs mourne. 



lodge's euphues. 99 

Alas, his paine is nought: 
For where my woe but thought, 
Oh, how would Phoebe sigh, if shee did looke on me I 
Beyond compare my paine, 

Yet glad am I, 
If gentle Phoebe daine 
To see her Montan die. 



After this Montanus felt his passions so extreame, 
that he fell into this exclamation against the iniustice 
of Loue. 

Helas tirant plein de rigueur, 
Modere un peu ta violence : 
Que te sert si grande dispense ? 
C'est trop de flammes pour un cceur, 
Espargnez en une estincelle 
Puis fais ton effort d y emousvoir, 
La fiere qui ne veut point voir, 
En quel feu je brusle pour elle. 
Execute Amour ce dessein y 
Et rabaisse un peu son audace 
Son cceur ne doit estre de glace. 
Bien quelle ait de niege le sein. 



f2 



100 VERSES FROM 

PHOEBE'S SONNET. 

A REPLIE TO MONTANUS* PASSION. 

Downe, a downe, 
Thus Phyllis sung, 

By fancie once distressed : 
Who so by foolish loue are stung, 
Are worthily oppressed. 

And so sing I. With a downe, downe, &c. 

When loue was first begot, 
And by the mouer's will 
Did fall to human lot 
His solace to fulfill. 
Deuoid of all deceipt, 
A chast and holy fire 
Did quicken man's conceipt, 
And women's brest inspire. 
The gods that saw the good 
That mortalls did approue, 
With kind and holy mood, 
Began to talke of loue. 

Downe, a downe, 
Thus Phyllis sung, 

By fancie once distressed, &c. 



lodge's euphues. 101 

But during this accord, 
A wonder strange to heare : 
Whilest Loue in deed and word 
Most faythfull did appeare. 
False semblance came in place, 
By iealousie attended, 
And with a double face 
Both loue and fancie blended. 
Which makes the gods forsake, 
And men from fancie flie, 
And maidens scorne a make, 
Forsooth, and so will I. 

Downe, a downe, 
Thus Phyllis sung, 

By fancie once distressed : 
Who so by foolish loue are stung, 

Are worthily oppressed. 
And so sing I. With downe, a downe, &c. 



SALADYNES SONNET. 

If it be true that heauen's eternall course, 
With restlesse sway, and ceaselesse turning glides, 
If aire inconstant be, and swelling sourse, 
Turnes and returns with many fluent tides ; 
If Earth, in Winter, Summer's pride estrange, 
And Nature seemeth only faire in change. 



102 VERSES FROM 

If it be true that our immortall spright 
Deriude from heauenly pure, in wandring still 
In noueltie and strangenesse doth delight, 
And by disconerent power discerneth ill ; 
And if the body, for to worke his best, 
Doth with the seasons change his place of rest. 

Whence comes it that (inforst by furious skies) 

I change both place and soyle, but not my hart ? 

Yet salue not in this change my maladies? 

Whence growesit that each object workes my smart? 

Alas, I see my faith procures my misse, 

And change in loue against my nature is. 
> 

Et florida pungunt. 



SONETTO. 

BY PHCEBE. 

My boate doth passe the straights 

Of seas incenst with fire, 
Filde with forgetfulnesse : 

Amidst the Winter's night, 
A blind and carelesse boy 

(Brought vp by fond desire) 
Doth guide me in the sea 

Of sorrow and despight. 



lodge's euphues. J 03 

For euery oare, he sets 

A ranke of foolish thoughts, 
And cuts (instead of waue) 

A hope without distresse : 
The winds of my deepe sighes 

(That thunder still for noughts) 
Haue split my sayles with feare, 

With care and heauinesse. 

A mightie storme of teares, 

A blacke and hideous cloude, 
A thousand fierce disdaines 

Doe slacke the haleyards oft: ♦ 
Till ignorance doe pull, 

And errour hale the shrowds, 
No starre for safetie shines, 

No Phoebe from aloft. 
Time hath subdued art, and ioy is slaue to woe : 
Alas (Loue's guid), be kind, what shall I perish so ? 



MONTANUS' FIRST SONNET. 

Alas, how wander I amidst these woods, 
Whereas no day bright shine doth finde accesse : 
But where the melancholy fleeting floods 
(Darke as the night) my night of woes expresse, 
Disarmde of reason, spoilde of Nature's goods, 
Without redresse, to salue my heauinesse. 
I walke, whilest thought (too cruel to my harmes) 
Withendlessegriefemy heedles iudgment charmes. 



104 VERSES FROM 

My silent tongue assailde by secret feare, 
My traitrous eyes imprisoned in their ioy, 
My fatall peace deuourd in fained cheare, 
My heart inforst to harbour in annoy, 
My reason robde of power by yeelding care, 
My fond opinions slaue to euery toy; 

Oh, Loue, thou guide in my vncertaine way, 
Woe to thy bow, thy fire, the cause of my decay. 

Et Jiorida pungunt. 



MONTANUS' SECOND SONNET. 

When the Dog 
Full of rage, 

With his irefull eyes 

Frownes amidst the skies, 
The shepheard to asswage 

The fury of the heat, 

Himselfe doth safely seat, 
By a fount 
Full of faire, 

Where a gentle breath 

(Mounting from beneath) 
Tempreth the aire. 
There his tlocks 
Drinke their fill, 

And with ease repose 

Whilest sweet sleep doth close 
Eyes from toylsome ill. 



lodge's euphues. 105 

But I burne 
Without rest, 

No defcnsiue power 

Shields from Phoebe's lower: 
Sorrow is my best. 
Gentle Loue 
Lowre no more, 

If thou wilt inuade^ 

In the secret shade, 
Labour not so sore. 
I my selfe 
And my flocks 

They their loue to please, 

I myself to ease, 
Both leaue the shadie oakes : 

Content to burne in fire 

* Saith Loue, doth so desire. 

Et florida pungunt. 



CORIDON'S SONG. 

A blyth and bonny country lasse, 

Heigh-ho the bonny lasse : 
Sate sighing on the tender grasse, 

And weeping said, will none come woo mee I 

* Sith ? 
f3 



106 VERSES FROM 

A smicker boy, a lyther swaine, 

Heigh-ho a smicker swaine ; 
That in his loue was wanton faine, 

With smiling looks straight came vnto her. 

When as the wanton wench espide, 

Heigh-ho, when she espide 
The meanes to make her selfe a bride, 

She simpred smooth like bonny bell: 
The swaine that saw her squint-eied kind, 

Heigh-ho, squint-eyed kind, 
His armes about her body twind; 

And, faire lasse, how faire ye, well? 

The country kit said, well forsooth, 

Heigh-ho, well forsooth, 
But that I haue a longing tooth, 

A longing tooth that makes me crie : 
Alas, said he, what garres thy griefe? 

Heigh-ho, what garres thy griefe? 
A wound, quoth she, without releife, 

I feare a maid that I shall die. 

If that be all, the shepheard said, 

Heigh-ho, the shepheard said, 
He make thee winne it gentle mayd, 

And so recure thy maladie. 



lodge's euphues. 107 

Hereon they kist with many a oath, 

Heigh-ho, with many a oath ; 
And fore God Pan did plight their troth, 

And to the church they hied them fast. 

And God send euery pretie peate, 

Heigh-ho, the pretie peate : 
That feares to die of this conceate, 

So kind a friend to helpe at last. 



END OF THE VERSES FROM ROSALYND OR EUPHUES 1 
GOLDEN LEGACIE. 



VERSES 



THE LIFE AND DEATH 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 



BY T. LODGE. 



1593. 



THE 

LIFE AND DEATH 

OF 

WILLIAM LONGBEARD, 

THE MOST FAMOUS AND WITTY 

Uttglfel) traitor, 

BORNE IN THE CITTY OF LONDON. 



ACCOMPANIED WITH MANYE OTHER 

MOST PLEASANT AND PRETTIE HISTORIES, 
By T. L, of Lincoln's Inne, Gent, . 



Printed at London, by Rychard Yardley and Peter 

Short, dwelling on Breadstreat hill, at the Signe 

of the Starre. 

1593. 



A 

DISTRESSED MOTHERS LULLABIE 

TO HER CHILDREN. 



LuLLABIE, 

Ah, little laddes 

Giue ceaselesse sorrow end with lullabie ; 
Suck up my teares 
That streanie from out the fountaines of mine eie, 

Feed, feed on me 
Whom no good hope or fortune glads, 

Oh set me free 
From those incessant and pursuing feares 
Which waken vp my woes and kil my pleasure. 

Lullabie, 
Weepe, weepe no more, 
Rut let me weepe, and weeping, weepe life hence, 

That whilst you want 
I may not see false Fortune's proud pretence 

When I am dead 
My God perhaps will send you store. 

Oh smile in need, 



112 VERSES FROM 

Poore hungry babes let smiles be nothing scant 
I teares, you smiles ; both haue no better treasure, 
To bring these woes exceeding meane or measure 
To lullabie. 



WILLIAM LONGBEAHD'S 

AMOROUS PASSION FOR MAUDEL1N.. 

Amidst the maze of discontented mind, 

The royal trophey of ioy-breeding loue, 

A happy holde and resting place did find, 

Within that brest which earst Earthe's hel did proue* 

Since when my long-enfeebled eies haue reard 
Their drooping sight to gaze vpon the sunne, 
Since when my thoughts in written lines appeard^ 
Reioycing at that palme my faith had wunne. 

Ennobled thus, by that thrice-nobled passion, 
Which hath the power all worldly cares to banish, 
I flie, sweet-seeming leures of false occasion, 
And let al thoughts but loue-sweet vade and vanish. 
The fruits I reape in spight of Fortune froward^ 
Makes me suppose no torment too vntoward. 




WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 113 



MAUDELIJST, 

His Mistresse had a fairs Jewell, wherein the two 
Cupids of Anacreon were painted, wrastling the one 
with the other, with this Motto, pro palma, for 
which cause he wrote this 

SONNET, 

AND PRESENTED HER THEREWITH. 

Ye braine-begotten deities agree you, 
Nurst by transparant christall of chast eies, 
Least she that gaue you life on sudden see j^ou, 
And frowning, kil you both who causde you rise. 

From hir you came young Cupids from no other, 
And but for her if enuious you shal wrastle, 
I feare you both wil lose a louely mother, 
Hir brow your bower, hir bosome is your castle. 

There gree you both, there both togither go you 
And suck the April! ritches of hir brest, 
Then I who long haue serued and loue to shew you 
How much I loue the bosome where you rest. 
Will come and kisse and blesse you, little wantons, 
And feed you kindly wantons, if you want once. 



114 VERSES FROM 

IMITATION OF A SONNET 

IN AN ANCIENT FRENCH POET. 

As soone as thou doost see the Winter clad in colde, 
Within September on the eaues in sundry formes 

to fold, 
Sweet swallow farre thou fliest, till to our natiue clime, 
In pleasant Aprill Phoebus' raies returne the sweeter 

time. 
But Loue no day forsakes the place whereas I rest, 
But euery houre liues in mine eies, and in mine hart 

doth nest. 
Each minute I am thrall and in my wounded hart 
He builds his neast, he laies his egges, and thence 

will neuer part. 
Already one hath wings, soft downe the other clads, 
This breakes the skin, this newly flegd about my 

bosome gads. 
The one hath broke the shel, the other soares on hie, 
This newly laid, that quickly dead, before the dam 

come nie. 
Both day and night I heare the smal ones how they 

crie, 
Calling for food, who by the great are fed for feare 

they die. 
All wax and grow to proofe and euery yeare doo lay 
A second neast, and sit and hatch the cause of my 

decay. 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 115 

Ah, Maudline what releife haue I for to remoue 
These crooked cares, that thus pursue my hart in 

harboring loue. 
But helplesse of releife since I by care am stung, 
To wound my hart thereby to slaie both mother and 

hir yong. 



BEING ABSENT FROM JtllS MISTRESSE 

He wrote this brief e Fancie to Mr, after the Marnier 
of the Italian Rimes, 

Oh, faire of fairest, dolphin like, 
Within the riuers of my plaint, 
With labouring finnes the waue I strike, 
Whose flouds are honoured by my saint. 

Withouten hart or gall I spring, 

And swim to heare thee sweetly sing, 

All like the fish when Nature's art 

Hath reft of hate and tender hart. 

And in the sea for love I burne, 

As for Arion did the fish, 

At euerie note I skip and turne, 

I harke, I praise, I like, I wish. 
But out, alas, with better chaunce 
The friendly fish did him aduaunce, 
He bare Arion on his back 
Where I thy sweet imbracements lack. 



116 VERSES FROM 

These other two for their shortnesse and strangenesse I 
could not finde in my heart to pretermit, knowing 
that the better sort, that are priuie to the Imitation 
and method, will haue their due estimate. 

My mistresse when she goes 
To pull the pinke and rose, 
Along the riuer bounds, 
And trippeth on the grounds, 
And runnes from rocks to rocks, 
With louely scattered locks, 
Whilst ainarous wind doth play, 
With haires so golden gay ; 
The water waxeth cleere, 
The fishes draw hir neere, 
The sirens sing hir praise, 
Sweet flowers perfume hir waies, 
And Neptune glad and faine 
Yeelds vp to hir his raigne. 



ANOTHER. 

When I admire the rose 

That Nature makes repose 

In you the best of many, 

More faire and blest than any, 

And see how curious art 

Hath decked euery part, 

I thinke, with doubtfull view, 

Whether you be the rose, or the rose is you. 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 117 

AN ODE 

He wrote amongst the rest I dare not forget, in that 
the Poesie is appertinent to this time, and hath no 
lesse life in it than those of the ancient, and the 
rather because hereby the learned may see, how euen 
in those daies, Poesy had Mr impugners, and Industrie 
could not be free from detraction. 

HIS OADE. 

Since that 1 must repose 

Beyond th' infernal lake, 

What vailes are to compose 

As many verses as Homer did make ? 

Choice numbers cannot keepe 

Me from my pointed graue, 

But after lasting sleepe 

The doomb of dreadful iudge I needs must haue. 

1 put the case, my verse, 

In lieu of all my paine, 

Ten yeares my praise rehearse, 

Or somewhat longer time some glorie gaine. 

What wants there to consume 

Or take my lines from light, 

But flame or fierie fume, 

Or threatning noice of war, or bloudy fight? 



118 VERSES FROM 

Excell I Anacrion, 

Stesicores, Simonides, 

Antimachus, or Bion, 

Philetes, or the graae Bacchilides? 

All these, though Greekes they were, 

And vsde that fluent toong, 

In course of many a yeare 

Their workes are lost, and haue no biding long. 

Then I, who want wit's sap, 

And write but bastard rime, 

May I expect the hap, 

That my endeuours may ore-come the time ? 

No, no; tis farre more meet 

To follow marchanfs life, 

Or at the iudge's feet 

To sell my toong for bribes to maintaine strife. 

Then haunt the idle traine 

Of poore Calliope, 

Which leaues for hunger slaine, 

The choicest men that hir attendants be. 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD, 119 



HE WROTE THIS WITH A POINTED DIAMOND 
IN HIR GLASSE. 

Thinke what I suffred (wanton) through thy wild- 

nesse, 
When, traitor to my faith, thy losenesse led thee : 
Thinke how my moodie wrath was turnde to 

mildnesse, 
When I bad best yet baser groomes did bed thee. 

Thinke that the staine of bewtie then is stained, 
When lewd desires doo alienate the hart : 
Thinke that the loue which will not be contained, 
At last will grow to hate in spight of art. 

Thinke that those wanton lookes will haue their 

wrinkles, 
And bat by faith olde age can merit nothing, 
When Time thy pale with purple ouer-sprinkles, 
Faith is thy best, thy beautie is a woe thing. 
In youth be true, and then in age resolue thee, 
Friends will be friends, till Time with them dis- 
solue thee. 



120 VERSES FROM 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD'S EPITAPH. 

Vntimely death, and my found fruits of treason, 
My lawlesse lust, my murthers long concealed, 
Haue shipwract life amids my Aprill season, 
Thus couerd things at last will be reuealed. 
A shamefull death my sinfull life succedeth, 
And feare of heauenly iudge great terror breedetb. 

My mangled members in this graue included, 
Haue answered lawes extreames to my confusion, 
Oh God ! let not my murthers be obtruded 
* Against my soule, wrongd through my earthe's illusion. 
And as the graue my liuelesse limmes containeth, 
So take my soule to thee where rest remaineth. 

Thou trauailer that treadest on my toombe, 

Remembreth thee of my vntimely fall, 

Preuent the time, forethinke what may become, 

See that thy wil be to thy reason thrall, 

Scorne world's delights, esteeme vaine honor small : 

So maist thou die with fame, where men of con- 
science foule 

Perish with shame and hazard of their soule. 



WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 121 

/ haue herevnto annexed likewise some other of his 
SPIRITUALL HYMNES AND SONGS, 

Whereby the Vertuous may gather how sweet the Fruits 
be of a reconciled and penitent Soule. 

THE FIRST. 

That pitty Lord that earst thy hart inflamed 
To enterteine a voluntarie death, 
To ransome man by lothed sinnes defamed 
From bel, and those infernal paines beneath : 

Vouchsafe, my God, those snares it may vnlose 
Wherein this blinded world hath me intrapped:* 
That whilst I traffique in this world of woes, 
My soule no more in lusts may be intrapped. 

Great are my faults, O me, most wilful witted : 
But if each one were iust, there were no place 
To shew thy power that sinnes might be remitted. 
Let then, O Lord, thy mercy quite displace, 
The lewd and endlesse sinnes I haue committed, 
Through thine vnspeakeable and endlesse grace. 



122 VERSES FROM 



THE SECOND HYMNE. 

Such darke obscured clouds at once incombred 
My mind, my hart, my thoughts from grace retired 
With swarmes of shines that neuer may be numbred, 
That hope of vertue quite in me expired. 

When as the Lord of hosts my gratious father, 
Bent on my dulled powers his beames of brightnesse, 
And my confused spirits in one did gather 
Too long ensnard by vanitie and lightnesse. 

A perfect zeale (not office of my sences) 

So seazde my iudgement, smothered in his misse, 

That heauen I wisht and loathd this earthly gaile, 

My hart disclaimd vile thoughts and vaine pretences. 

And my desires were shut in seemely vaile^ 

So that I said, Lord, what a world is this? 



WILLIAM LONGBEAKD. 123 



THE THIRD HYMNE. 



A shop of shame, a gaine of liue-long griefe, 
A heauen for fooles, a hel to perfect wise, 
A theater of blames where death is chiefe, 
A golden cup where poison hidden lies. 

A storme of woes without one calme of quiet, 
A hiue that yeeldeth hemlock and no hony, 
A boothe of sinne, a death to those that trie it, 
A faire where cares are sold withouten mony. 

A fleshlie ioy, a graue of rotten bones, 
A spring of teares, a let of true delight, 
A losse of time, a laborinth of mones, 
A pleasing paine, a prison of the sprite. 
Is this my life : why cease I then resolued 
To pray with Paule, and wish to be dissolued ? 



END OF VERSES FROM LODGE'S WILLIAM LONGBEARD. 



g2 



VERSES 

FROM 

LODGE'S 

M&tqaviU of Omenta* 

1596. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 



BY THOMAS LODGE. 



Printed for Iohn Busbie, and are to be sold in Saint 

Dunston's Church Yard, in Fleet Street, at the 

little shop next Clifford's Inne. X596. 4to. 

) 



HUMANE MISERIES DISCURSUS. 



O whereof boasteth man, or by what reason 
Is filthy clay so much ambitious? 
Whose thoughts are vaine, and alter euery season, 
Whose deedes are damned, base, and vitious, 
Who in his cradle by his childish crying, 
Presageth his mishaps and sorrowes nying. 

An infant first from nurces teat he sucketh 
With nutriment corruption of his nature: 
And from the roote of endlesse error plucketh 
That taste of sinne that waites on euery creature, 
And as his sinewes firme his sinne increaseth, 
And but till death his sorrow neuer ceaseth. 

In riper yeares, when youthly courage raineth, 
A winter's blast of fortunes lowring changes, 
A flattering hope wherein no trust remaineth, 
A fleeting loue his forward ioy estranges : 
Atchiue he wealth, with wasteful! wo he bought it, 
Let substance faile, he grieues, and yet he sought it. 



128 VERSES FROM 

In staied yeares, when as he seekes the gleanings 
Of those his times in studious artes bestowed 
In summe, he oft misconstrueth wise-men's meanings, 
Soiling the spring from whence his science flowed, 
In all he gaines by perfect iudgement gained, 
A hate of life that hath so long remained. 

From height of throne to abiect wretchednesse, 
From woonderous skill to seruile ignorance: 
From court to cart, from rich to rechlesnesse. 
The ioyes of life haue no continuance : 
The king, the caitife wretch, the lay, the learned, 
Their crowns, woes, wants, and wits with griefe haue 
erned. 

The Iudgement seate hath brawles, honour is hated, 

The souldier's life is dayly thrall to danger, 

The marchant's bag by tempests is abated, 

His stocke still semes for prey to euery stranger, 

The scholler with his knowledge learnes repent, 

Thus each estate in life hath discontent. 

And in these trades and choice estates of liuing 
Youth steales on manly state, and it on age, 
And age with weakned limmes, and mind misgiuing 
With trembling tongue repenteth youthly rage, 
And ere he full hath learned his life to gouerne, 
He dies, and dying doth to dust returne. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 129 

His greatest good is, to report the trouble 
Which he in prime of youth hath ouerpassed, 
How for his graines of good he reapt but stubble, 
How lost by loue, by follies how disgraced, 
Which whilst he counts, his Sonne perhaps attendeth, 
And yet his dayes in selfe like follies endeth. 

Thus mortall life on sodaine vanisheth, 
All like a dreame, or as the shadow fleeteth, 
When sunne bis beame from substance banisheth, 
Or like the snow at once that dries and sleeteth, 
Or as the rainebow, which by her condition 
Liues by the Sunne's reflect and opposition. 

Thus life in name is but a death in being, 
A burthen to the soule by earth intangled : 
Then put thou off that vaile that lets thy seeing, 
O wretched man, with many torments mangled, 
Since neither childe, nor youth, nor staid, nor aged, 
The stormes of wretched life may be as waged. 

And with the Egyptian midst thy delicates 
Present the shape of death in euery member, 
To make thee know the name of all estates : 
And midst thy pompe thy nying graue remember, 
Which if thou dost, thy pride shall be repressed, 
Since none before he dies is perfect blessed. 



6,3 



130 VERSES FROM 

SONNETS 

IN IMITATION OF DOLCE THE ITALIAN POET^ 



PIETATI. 

If so those flames I vent when as I sigh, 
Amidst these lowly vallies where I lie, 
Might finde some meanes by swift addresse to flie 
Unto those Alpine toplesse mountaines high: 

Thou shouldst behold their icie burthens thawe, 
And crimson flowers adorne their naked backs, 
Sweete roses should inrich their winter wracks, 
Against the course of kind and Nature's lawe* 

But you, faire ladie, see the furious flame, 

That through your will destroyes me beyond measure,. 

Yet in my paines me thinkes you take great pleasure,. 

Loth to redeeme, or else redresse the same : 
Nor hath your heart compassion of mine illes, 
More cold than snow, mor hard than Alpine hills. ! 



PIETATI. 

O desarts, be you peopled by my plaints, 
And let your plantes by my pure teares be watred* 
And let the birds whom my sad mone acquaints, 
To heare my hymnes haue harmonie in hatred. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 131 

Let all your savage citizens refraine, 
I To haunt those bowers where I my woes bewray, 
Let none but deepe dispaire with me remaine, 
To haste my death when hope doth will me stay. 

Let rocks remoue for feare they melt to heare me, 
Let Eccho whist for dread shee die to answere : 
So liuing thus where no delights come neere me, 
My manie mones more mouing may appeare : 
And in the depth of all, when I am climing, 
Let loue come by, see, sigh, and fall a crying. 



WRITTEN IN THE 

DESOLATE SEASON OF THE YEAR. 

With Ganimede now comes the shining sunne, 
And through the world displaise his chiller flame, 
Cold, frost, and snow, the meddowes, and the moun- 

taines 
Do wholie blend, the waters waxen ice : 
The meades want flowers, the trees haue parched 

leaues, 
Such is the dolie season of the yeare. 

And I in coldest season of the yeare, 
Like to a naked man before the sunne^ 



132 VERSES FROM 

Whilest drought thus dwels in herbes and dried 

leaues, 
Consume my selfe, and in affection's flame 
To cinders fall : ne helpes me frost or ice 
That falles from off these snow-clad cloudie moun- 
tains. 

But when as shades new clothe againe the mountaines, 
And daies wax long, and warmer is the yeare, 
Then in my soule fierce loue congeales an ice, 
Which nor the force of fierce enflamed sunne 
May thaw, nor may be moult with mightie flames, 
Which frost doth make me quake like Aspen leaues. 

Such time the windes are whist, and trembling leaues> 
And beast grow mute reposing on the mountaines, 
Then when aslaked beene the heauenly flames, 
Both in the waine and prime tide of the yeare : 
I watch, I warde, vntill the new sprung sunne, 
And hope, and feare, and feele both cold and ice. 

But when againe her morrow-gathered ice 
The morne displaies, and frostieth drouping leaues, 
And day renewes with rising of the sunne, 
Then wailful forth I wend through vales and moun- 
taines : 
Ne other thought haue I, day, moneth, and yeare, 
But of my first the fatall inward flames. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 133 

Thus loue consumes me in his liuely flames, 
Thus loue doth freeze me with his chillie ice, 
So that no time remaines me through the yeare 
To make me blithe : ne are there any leaues : 
Through al the trees that are vpon the mountaines, 
That may conceale me from my sweetest sunne. 
First shall the sunne be seene without his flame, 
The wintred mountaines without frost or ice, 
Leaues on the stones, ere I content one yeare. 



This written in an amorous and more plausible vaine 
(as that which most pleased the Ladies) and was not 
of least worth, I haue set downe last. 

O curious gem, how I enuie each while, 

To see thee play vpon my ladies paps, 

And heare those orbes where Cupid layes his traps, 

From whence a gratious Aprill still doth smile. 

And now thou plaist thee in that garden gentill, 
Twixt golden fruite, and neere her heart receiuest 
Thy rest, and all her secret thoughts conceiuest 
Vnder a vaile faire, white, diuine, and subtill. 

Ye gentle pearles, where ere did Nature make you ? 
Or whether in Indian shoares you found your mould, 
Or in those lands where spices serue for fuell: 
Oh, if I might from out your essence take you, 
And twine my selfe to shape what ere I would, 
How gladly would I be my ladies iewell ? 



134 VERSES FROM 

CANZON. 

WRITTEN BY ARSADACHUS. 

My words, my thoughts, my vowes, 
Haue soild, haue forst, haue stainde 
My tongue, my heart, my browes. 

My tongue, my heart, my browes, 
Shall speake, shall thinke, shall smile, 
Gainst words, gainst thoughts, gainst vowes. 

For words, for thoughts, for vowes, 
Haue soiled, wrongde, and stained, 
My tongue, my heart, my browes. 

Whereon henceforth I sweare, 

My words, my thoughts, my vowes, 

So vaine, so vile, so bace, 

Which brought my tongue, heart, browes^ 

To shame, repulse, disgrace, 
Shall evermore forbeare, 

To tempt that brow, that heart, that tongue, so holy, 
With vows, with thoughts, with words of too great 
folly. 



J 



M ARGARITE OF AMERICA. 135 

EPITAPH ON TWO LOVERS. 

Vertue is dead, and here she is enshrined, 
Within two lifelesse bodies late deceased; 
Beautie is dead, and here is faith assigned 
To weepe her wracke, who when these dide first 

ceased. 
Pitie was dead when tyranny first slew them, 
And heauen inioies their soules, tho earth doth rew 

them. 

Since beautie then and vertue are departed, 
And faith growes faint to weep in these their fading^ 
And vertuous pitie, kind and tender hearted, 
Died to behold fierce furies fell inuading. 

Vouchsafe ye heauens, that fame may haue in keeping 
Their happy and thrice blessed names, for whome 
Both vertue, beautie, pittie died with weeping, 
And faith is closed in this marble tombe. 



DOMUS DOLORIS. 

Who seekes the caue where horride care doth dwell, 
That feedes on sighes, and drinkes of bitter teares : 

Who seekes in life to finde a living hell, 
Where he that Hues, all liuing ioy forbeares : 



136 VERSES FROM 

Who seeks that griefe, that griefe it selfe scarce 

knowes it, 
Here let him rest, this caue shall soone disclose it. 

As is the mite vnto the sandie seas, 

As is the drop vnto the Ocean streames, 

As to the orbe of heauen a sillie pease, 

As is the lampe to burning Ticius * beames : 

Euen such is thought that vainely doth indeuer, 

To thinke the care Hues here, or count it euer. 

Here sorrow, plague, dispaire, and fierce suspect; 

Here rage, here ielousie, here cursed spight, 
Here murther, famine, treason and neglect, 

Haue left their stings to plague a wofull wight: 
That liues within this tombe of discontent, 

Yet loathes that life that nature hath him lent. 



ON A 

DESOLATE AND LEAVELESSE OAKE. 

Thine age and wastfull tempests thee, 
Mine age and wretched sorrowes me 

Defaced ; 
Thy sap by course of time is blent, 
My sence by care and age is spent, 

And chased. 

* Titan's ? 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 137 

Thy leaues are fallen away to dust, 
My yeares are thralPd by time vniust. 
Thy boughes the windes haue borne away, 
My babes fierce murther did decay. 
Thy rootes are firmed in the ground, 
My rootes are rent, my comforts drown'd, 

Showers cherish, 
Thy barren bosome in the field, 

I perish, 
Since nothing may me comfort yeelde. 

Storms, showers, age, weare, waste, daunt, and make 

thee dry, 
Teares, cares, age, ice, waste, wring, and yet Hue I. 






IN A CARELESS VAINE, AS IF 

CLOKING AND SMOTHERING WITH LOVE, 

HE WROTE THESE VERSES. 

Iudge not my thoughts, ne measure my desires 

By outward conduct of my searching eies, 
For starres resemble flames, yet are no fires : 

If under gold a secret poison lies, 
If under softest flowers lie serpents fell, 

If from man's spine bone vipers do arise, 
So may sweete lookes conceale a secret hell, 

Not loue in me, that neuer may suffice 



138 VERSES FROM 

The heart that hath the rule of reason knowne; 

But loue in me, which no man can deuise, 
A loue of that I want, and is mine owne, 

Yet loue, and louers lawes do I despise: 
How strange is this? iudge you that louers be, 

To loue, yet haue no loue conceald in me. 



ARSADACHUS TO HIS MISTRESS. 

I smile to see the toies, 
Which I in silent see, 
The hopes, the secret ioyes 
Expected are from me : 
The vowes, the sighes, the teares, are lost in vaine, 
By silly loue through sorrow welnie slaine. 

The colour goes and comes, 

The face, now pale, now red, 
Now feare the heart benomes^ 
And hope growes almost dead. 
And I looke on and laugh, tho sad I seeme, 
And faine to fawne, altho my minde misdeeme. 

I let the flie disport, 

About the burning light, 
And feed her with resort, 
And baite her with delight. 
But when the flames hath seasd her winges (adew) 
Away will I, and seeke for pleasures new. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 139 



THE ANSWER. 

Smile not, they are no toyes, 

Which you in silent see, 
Nor hopes, nor secret ioyes, 
Which you behold in mee: 
But those my vowes, sighes, teares, are serious seales, 
Whereby my heart his inward griefe reueales. 

My colour goes and comes, 
My face is pale and red, 
And feare my heart benomes, 
And hope is almost dead ; 
And why? to see thee laugh at my desart, 
So faire a man, and yet so faise a heart. 

Well, let the flie disport, 

And turne her in the light : 
And as thou dost report, 
Still baite her with dispite : 
Yet be thou sure, when thou hast slaine the first 
Thou fliest away (perhaps) to find the worst 



140 VERSES FROM 

SONNET. 

I pine away expecting of the houre, 

Which through my wayward chance will not arrive, 
I waite the word, by whose sweete sacred power, 

My lost contents may soone be made alive : 
My pensiue heart, for feare my griefe should perish 

Upon fallacious hope his fast appeaseth ; 
And to my selfe my frustrate thoughts to cherish, 

I faine a good that flits before it ceaseth : 
And as the ship farre scattred from the port, 

All welnie spent, and wreckt with wretched blast, 
From east to west, midst surging seas is tossed, 

So I, whose soule by fierce delaies effort, 
Is ouercome in heart and lookes desast*, 

Runne heere, runne there, sigh, die, by sorrow 
crossed. 



ARSADACHUS HIS VERSES. 

I see a new sprung sunne that shines more cleerely y 
That warmes the earth more blithly with his 
brightnes, 
That spreads hir beams more faire, and shines more 
cheerly 
Then that cleere sun that glads the day with 
lightnes. 

* defast? i. e. defac'd. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 141 

I For but by outward heate the one offends me, 

The other burnes my bones, and melts their marrow : 

| The one when he sets on further blends me, 
The other ceasles makes her eie loues arrow. 

I From that a shower a shadow of a tree, 
A foggie mist may safely me protect, 
But this through clouds and shades doth passe and 
pierce me, 
In winter's frosts the others force doth flee : 
But this each season shines in each respect, 

Each where, ech houre, my hart, doth plague and 
perce me. 



COMPLAINT. 

13 2 Teares, cares, wrongs, griefes feele I, 113 2 
2 2 1 Wo, frownes, scornes, crafts nill cease, 4.2 1.4 

Yeares, months, daies, howers do flie 3.3.1 4 

Fro me away flieth peace : 2 4 2 3 

1 Opprest I live (alas vnhappily 2 

2 Rest is exilde, scornde, plagde thus am I. 1 



142 VERSES FROM 

ANSWER. 

13 2 Mend her, or change fond thought, 1 1 3 2 1 

2 2 1 Minde her, then end thy minde, 4 2 41] 

3 14 Ende thee will sorrowe sought, 3 3 14^ 

4 4 3 Kinde if thou art: too blinde, 2 4 2 3 

1 Such loue flie farre, lest thou perceiue and j 

proue 2 

2 Much sorow, griefe, care, sighing breeds 

such loue 1 



In Imitation of gome Yfmt fcg Woltt> beginning 

10 VEGGIO, ETC. 

I see with my heart's bleeding, 

Thus hourely through my pain my life desires, 
I feele the flames exceeding 

That burne my heart by vndeserued fires. 
But whence these fires haue breeding, 

I cannot finde, though great are my desires : 

O miracle eterne ! 
That thus I burne in fire, and yet my fire cannot 
discern. 



UPON A WANTON SUBJECT. 

When as my pale to her pure lips vnited, 
(Like new fallne snow vpon the morning rose) 

Sucke out those sweets wherein my soule delited; 
Good Lord, how soon dispersed were my woes! 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 143 

A nd from those gates whence comes that balmy breath 

That makes the sunne to smile when he ariseth, 
I drew a life subdewing neering death, 

I suckt a sweete that euerie sweete compriseth. 
There tooke my soule his hand-fast to desire, 

There chose my heart his paradise on earth, 
There is the heauen whereto my hopes retire, 

There pleasure bred, and thence was Cupid's birth: 
Such is their power that by a touch they seuer, 
The heart from paines that liu'd in sorrowes euer. 



AT SUCH TIME AS IN THE 

ENTRANCE OF LOUE 

HE DESPAIRED OF ALL SUCCOUR. 

Euen at the brink of sorrowes ceasles streames, 

All well-nie drownd through dalliance and disdaine, 
Hoping to winne the truce in my extreames, 

To perce that marble heart where pride remaines. 
I send salt teares, sad sighes, and ruthful lines, 

Firme vowes (and with these true men) my desire, 
Which in his lasting sufferance scarce repines, 

To burne in ceaslesse iEtna of her ire. 
All which (and yet of all, the least might serve] 

If too too weake to waken true regarde, 
Vouchsafe, O heauen, that see how I deserue, 

Since you are neuer partiall in rewarded 
That ere I die she may with like successe, 
Weepe, sigh, write, vow and die without redresse. 



J44 VERSES FROM 

THIS OTHER IN THE SELF LIKE PASSION, 

BUT WITH MORE GOUERNMENT. 

Heape frowne on frowne, disdaine vpon disdaine, 
Ioyne care to care, and leaue no wrong vnwrought, 

Suppose the worst, and smile at euerie paine, 
Thinke my pale lookes of enuie not of thought. 

In errors maske let reasons eie be masked, 

Send out contempts to sommon death to slay me, 

To all these tyrant woes tho I be tasked, 

My faith shall flourish tho these paines decay me. 

And tho repining loue to cinders burne me, 
I will be fam'de for sufferance to the last, 

Since that in life no tedious paines could turne me, 
And care my flesh, but not my faith could wast. 

Tho after death for all this life's distresse, 

My soule your endles honours shall confesse. 



In Imitation of a j&owut fcg Sotiobico ^agcale, 

Beginning, " tutte le stelle havean del ciel 
l'impero." 

Those glorious lampes that heauen illuminate, 
And most incline to retrogade aspects, 

Vpon my birth-day shonde the worst effects, 
Thralling my life to most sinister fate. 



MARGAKITE OF AMERICA. 145 

Where-through my selfe estrangde from truth awhile 
Twixt pains, and plagues, midst torments and 
distresse, 

Supposde to finde for all my ruth redresse, 
But now beleife, nor hope, shall me beguile. 

So that (my heart from ioyes exiled quite) 

He pine in griefe through fierce disdaines accurst, 

Scornde by the worlde, aliue to nought but spite : 
Hold I my tongue? 'tis bad; and speak I? wurst. 

Both helpe me nought; and if perhaps I write 
'Tis not in hope, but lest the heart should burst. 



Imitate from tjje Italian of 0LslxUUu 

O shadie vales, O faire inriched meades, 

O sacred woodes, sweete fields, and rising moun- 
taines, 

O painted flowers, greene herbes where Flora treads, 
Refresht by wanton windes, and w r atrie fountaines. 

all you winged queristers of woode, 
That piercht aloft your former paines report, 

ind strait againe recount with pleasant moode, 
Your present ioyes in sweete and seemely sort. 

H 



146 VERSES FROM 

O all you creatures, whosoeuer thriue, 
On mother earth, in seas, by aire or fire: 

More blest are you, then I here vnder sunne, 
Loue dies in me, when as he doth reuiue 

In you; I perish vnder beautie's ire, 

Where after stormes, windes, frosts, your life is 
wonne. 



ARSADACHUS 

HIS COY PASSION. 

'Twixt reuerence and desire, how am I vexed? 

Now prone to lay ambitious handes on beautie, 
Now hauing feare to my desires annexed, 

Now haled on by hope, now staid by dutie. 

Emboldned thus, and ouerrulde in striuing, 

To gaine the soueraine good my heart desireth: 

I Hue a life, but in effect no liuing, 

Since dread subdues desire that most aspireth. 

Tho must I bide the combate of extreames, 
Faine to enjoy, yet fearing to offend, 

Like him that striues against resisting streames, 
In hope to gaine the harbor in the end: 

Which bauen hir grace, which happy grace enjoyed 

Both reuerence, and desire, are well employed. 



MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 147 

HIS HYPERBOLICAL PRAISE, 

SHEWING THE RIGHT SHAPE OF HIS DISSEMBLING 
NATURE. 

Not so much borrowed beautie hath the starres, 
Not so much bright the mightie eie of day, 

Not so much cleare hath Cinthia, where she warres 
With Deathe's neere neece in her blacke array. 

Not so true essence haue the sacred soules, 
That from their naturall mansions are deuided, 

Not so pure red hath Bacchus in his boules, 
As hath that face whereby my soule is guided. 

Not so could art or nature if they sought, 

In curious workes themselues for too exceede, 

Or second that which they at first had wrought, 
Nor so could time, or all the gods proceede, 

As to enlarge, mould, thinke, or match that frame, 

As I do honour vnder Dian's name. 



MARGARITA S EPITAPH. 

A blessed soule from earthly prison loosed, 
Ye happie heuens hath faith to you conuaide, 

The earthly holde within this tombe inclosed, 

White marble stones within your wombe is laide ; 

The fame of her that soule and bodie lost, 

Survives from th' He to the Bractrian coast. 



148 VERSES FROM, ETC. 

A precious pearle in name, a pearle in nature, 
Too kinde in loue vntb too fierce a foe, 

By him she lou'd, sliee didc, £) cursed creature, 
To quite true faith with furious murther so! 

But vaine are teares for those whom death hath slaine, 

And sweete is fame that makes dead liue againe. 



DIANA'S EPITAPH. 

Thy bahe and thou by sire and husband's hand, 
Belou'd in staied sence was slaine in rage, 

Both by untimely death in naliue land 

Lost empire, hope, and died, in timelesse age ; 

And he whose sword your bloud with furie spilt, 

Bereft himselfe of life through cursed guilt. 

All ye that fixe your eyes vpon this tombe, 
Remember this, that beautie fadeth fast, 

That honours are enthralde to haples dombe, 
That life hath nothing sure, but soone doth wast: 

So liue you then, that when your yeares are fled, 

Your glories may suruiue when you are dead. 

END OF VERSES FROM A MARGARITE OF AMERICA. 









CONTENTS. 



Page 

Glaucus and Silla* 1 

* See separate Index at page 68. 

VERSES FROM EUPHUES' GOLDEN LEGACY 73 

The Contents of the Schedule which Sir John of 
Bourdeaux gaue to his Sonnes. 

" My sonnes behold ivhat portion I do giue." 75 

Rosader's Sonnet sent to Rosalynde. 

" Tivo sunnes at once from one /aire heauen there 

shinde." 77 

Rosalynd's Madrigall. 

" Loue in my bosom like a bee." ib. 

Montanus' Passion. 

66 Hadst thou been borne wheras perpetuall cold," 79 

Montanus' Fancie. 

"First shall the heauens want starry light" 80 

A Pleasant Eglog between Montanus and Coridon. 

" Say shepheard boy, what makes thee greet so sore" 8 1 

Montanus' Sonnet. 

"Phoebe sate."., 87 

Sonnetto by Rosader. 

" Of all chaste birdes the Phoenix doth excell." ... 88 

Rosalynde's Description. 

" Like to the cleere in highest spheare" 89 



150 CONTENTS. 

Page 

Rosader's Sonnet. 

" In Sorrowes cell I layd me down to sleepe" 91 

Rosader's second Sonetto. 

" Turne I my lookes unto the skies" 92 

Rosader's third Sonnet. 

" Of vertuous loue myself may boast alone" 93 

The wooing Eglogue betwixt Rosalynde and Rosader. 
" / pray thee, nymph, by all the working words " 94 

Montanus' Sonnet. 

"A turtle sate upon a leauelesse tree." 98 

Montanus' Exclamation against the Injustice of Loue. 
" HSlas tirant plein de rigueur." 99 

Phoebe's Sonnet. 

" Downe adowne."... 100 

Saladyne's Sonnet. 

"Ifit be true that heauen's eternal course ." 101 

Sonetto by Phoebe. 

" My boate doth passe the straights." 102 

Montanus' first Sonnet. 

" Alas how wander I amidst these woods." 103 

Montanus' second Sonnet. 

" When the dog." 104 

Coridon's Song. 

" A blyth and bonny country lasse" 105 

VERSES FROM THE LIFE AND DEATH OF WILLIAM 

LONGBEARD 110 

A distressed Mother's Lullabie to her Children ill 

William Longbeard's amorous Passion for Maudelin. 

" Amidst the maze of discontented mind" 112 

Sonnet, on a faire Jewell of his Mistresse's. 

" Ye braine begotten deities agree you." 113 



CONTENTS. 151 

Page 

Imitation of a Sonnet in an ancient French Poet. 
" As soone as thou doost see the Winter clad in 

colde," 114 

A brief Fancie after the manner of the Italian Rimes. 

" Oh f aire of fairest , dolphin like" 115 

Two others. 

" Mymistresse when she goes ." 116 

" When I admire the Rose," ib. 

An Ode. 

" Since that I must repose," 117 

Written with a pointed Diamond in a Glasse. 

" Thinke what I suffred (wanton) through thy 

wildness." ... 119 

William Longbeard's Epitaph. 

" Vntimely death, and my found fruits of treason," 120 

Three Spiritual! Hymnes. 

1. " That pitty Lord that earst thy hart inflamed" 121 

2. " Such darkeobscured clouds at once incombred." 122 

3. a A shop of shame, a gaine of Hue-long grief e" 123 

VERSES FROM A MARGAR1TE OF AMERICA. 

Humanae Miseriae discursus. 

" O whereof boasteth man, or by what reason" 127 

Sonnets in Imitation of Dolce. 

1. " If so those flames I vent when as I sigh," ... 130 

2. " O desarts, be you peopled by my plaints," .... ib« 

Written in the desolate Season of the Year. 

u With Ganimede now comes the shining sunne".. 131 

Written in an amorous Vaine. 

" O curious gem, how I enuie each while," 133 

Canzon by Arsadachus. 

ie My words, my thoughts, my vowes,"... 134 

Epitaph on two Louers. 

€t Vertue is dead, and here she is enshrined," 135 



152 CONTENTS. 

Page 
Doraus Doloris. 

" Who seekes the caue where horrid care doth 

dwell." 135 

On a desolate and leanelesse oake. 

" Thine age and wastfull tempests thee." 136 

In a carlesse Vaine, as if cloking Loue. 

" Judge not my thoughts, ne measure my desires" 137 

Arsadachus to his Mistress. 

" I smile to see the toies." 138 

The Answer. 

" Smile not, they are no toyes." 139 

Sonnet. 

a I pine away expecting of the houre.".. 140 

Arsadachus his Verses. 

" I see a new sprung sunne that shines more cleerely." ib. 

Complaint. 

" Teares, cares, wrongs, griefes,feele I." 141 

Answer. 

" Mend her, or change fond thought" 142 

In Imitation of a Sonnet by L. Pascale. 

" Those glorious lampes that heauen illuminate "... 144 

Imitated from the Italian of Martelli. 

" O shadie tales, O faire inriched meades." 1 45 

Arsadachus his coy Passion. 

u 'Twixt reuerence and desire, how am I vexed.".. 1 16 

His hyperbolical Praise. 

" Not so much borrowed beautie hath the starres." 147 

Margarita's Epitaph. 

* ' A blessed soule from earthly prison loosed." ....... i b . 

Diana's Epitaph. 

" Thy babe and thou by sire and husband's hand" 148 

C. Whittingham, College House, Chisvvick. 



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